UC-NRLF 


M7    Mb? 


New 

Waggings 

Of 

Old  Tales 

BY 
TWO    WAGS 

ILLUSTRATED  BY  OLIVER  HERFORD 


BOSTON 

TICKNOR    AND     COMPANY 

211  erremont  Street 

1888 


Copyright,  1887, 
BY    TlCKNOR  AND  COMPANY 

All  rights  reserved. 


SHntbrraitn  19rf8«: 
JOHN  WILSON  AND  SON,  CAMBRIDGE. 


TO 


FRANK   DEMPSTER 
SHERMAN, 

BY    HIS    TRULY, 

J.  K.  BANGS, 

•who  seizes  this  opportunity  to 
inform  his  friends  that  he  is 
in  no  way  responsible  for  tJie 
verses  which  have  crept  into 
the  following  pages. 


JOHN   KENDRICK 
BANGS, 

BY   HIS    FRIEND, 

F.  D.  SHERMAN, 

•who  begs  to  acquaint  the  pub 
lic  with  the  fact  that  the  prose 
portions  of  this  work  have  been 
inserted  against  his  expressed 
wishes  and  in  defiance  of  his 
advice. 


497043 


LIST   OF   ILLUSTRATIONS. 


Hop  o'  My  Thumb  and  his  Brothers  in  the 

Wood Frontispiece. 

Initial  H 15 

Initial  W 18 

The  Interview 25 

"We  climbed  down  the  lightning-rod"    .     .  42 

Tailpiece     .                    46 

Initial  A 47 

Initial  O 48 

"A  great  consternation  was  kindled"      .     .  51 

Initial  L .  53 

"  They  made  known  their  errand  "...  55 

"'What  are  they?'  said  Jack"     ....  62 

"Imagine  his  surprise" 64 

"  He  was  met  by  a  fairy " 66 

"  Set  the  proper  pace  for  Jack "     .     .     .     .  69 

"'Come  to  my  arms,  my  son!'"  ....  71 


viii       .LIST  OF  ILLUSTRATIONS. 

PAGE 

44  The  commissioners  had  not  decided  "  .     .  73 

Initial  A           74 

Initial  T 75 

The  British  £ 77 

Initial  M           83 

Initial  O 86 

A  Lightning-bug  magnified 93 

k>  Her  was  awakened" 95 

"The  crocodiles  are  biting  awfully"   ...  99 

The  Centre  Knob 100 

'•  Having  digested  these  compilations  "    .     .  105 

"The  slaves  carried   Her  to  her  chamber"  107 

"  He  hobbled  away  " 1 1 1 

"Fed  all  his  wives  to  the  elephants"      .     .  112 

Initial  N 113 

Initial  C 115 

"That  was  long  ago"       nS 

"They  never  failed  to  yank  the  comb"       .  120 

"Darning  stockings  after  tea".     ...  123 

"So  excited  was  the  maiden"   .  124 

"Lo!  he  changed  into  a  coachman"        .     .  125 

"  Her  graceful    figure   was   arrayed    in    fine 

brocade  '' 126 

"But  be  sure  that  you're  at  home"  .     .     .  127 


LIST  OF  ILLUSTRATIONS.  ix 

PAGE 

"  She  was  the  picture  of  his  fancy"        .     .  128 

"Her  sisters  found   the  evening  very  chill"  129 

"Scorned  decorum,  rushing  onward"       .     .  131 

"Time  is  growing  quite  impatient"    .     .     .  133 

Initial  M .  134 

Initial  M !37 

"A  form  so  utterly  horrible" 141 

"He  was  on  the  other  side  of  the  street"  .  143 

"He  sprang  to  the  door" 149 

"He  clutched  the  delicate  viands"     ...  152 

"She  perceived  the  merchant"       ....  163 

Finis 165 


PROLOGUE. 

]T  seemed  a  fairly  good  idea. 

The  children  were  to  be  given 
an  entertainment,  and  some  one 
suggested  that  an  authors'  reading  of  the 
tales  of  childhood  be  tried,  provided  the 
authors  were  willing.  Unfortunately  in 
vestigation  showed  that  the  authors  were 
all  dead,  otherwise  they  would  doubtless 
have  assisted  gladly. 

It  was  then  proposed  that  such  kind 
gentlemen  as  the  Eminent  Realist,  the 
Distinguished  Diplomat,  the  Illustrious 
Laureate,  and  others  should  be  asked 


12  PROLOGUE. 

to  read  the  stories  for  the  dead  authors, 
and  happily  they  were  unanimously 
willing. 

So  it  happened.  The  children  gathered, 
and  in  their  hands  were  placed  daintily- 
printed  programmes  setting  forth  in  all  the 
glory  of  aesthetic  type  that  "  '  Hop  O'  My 
Thumb '  would  be  read  to  them  by  the 
Eminent  Realist ;  that  the  Apostle  of  Ob 
scurity  would  recite  a  myth;  that  the 
Leader  of  the  Fleshly  School  would  charm 
their  ears  with  the  '  History  of  Mary  and 
the  Lamb ;  '  that  the  Disciple  of  Ambi 
guity  would  tell  of  'Jack  and  the  Bean 
stalk;  '  that  the  African  Reminiscencer 
would  recount  the  thrilling  story  of 
Rumpelslopogaas  ;  while  '  Beauty  and  the 
Beast'  and  'Cinderella'  would  be  treated 
respectively  by  the  Great  Romancer  and 


PROLOGUE.  13 

the  Illustrious  Laureate."  By  common 
consent  the  chairman  of  the  occasion  was 
to  be  the  Distinguished  Diplomat,  whom 
the  children  universally  admired  because 
of  his  familiarity  with  his  mother  tongue 
and  every  one  of  its  ancestors,  dead  or 
otherwise. 

The  day  was  propitious ;  none  of  the 
proxy  authors  disappointed,  and  the  pro 
ceedings  were  exactly  as  they  are  set  down 
in  the  following  pages. 


OPENING    REMARKS    BY 

THE    DISTINGUISHED 

DIPLOMAT. 


must  be  a  strong 
combination  of  un 
interesting  vacuity 
and  fatuous  imbe 
cility,  or  must  have 
been  sent  into  the 
world  unfurnished 
with  that  modulat 
ing  and  restraining  balance-wheel  which 
we  call  a  sense  of  the  beautiful,  who  in 
his  old  age  is  unable  to  appreciate  with 
all  the  ardor  of  youthful  enthusiasm  those 
ever-inspiring  yet  simple  tales  which  have 
been  handed  down,  almost  I  might  say 
ab  urbe  condita,  to  us,  our  children,  et  nati 


'16  •'  '    ~NEW   WAGGINGS 

natoruin  ct  qui  nascent  it  r  ab  tllis,  with 
out  being  accused  of  going  extra  muros 
vcritatis. 

''  Vive  le  roi !  was  an  expression  com 
monly  used  in  France  in  the  days  prior  to 
the  great  Revolution,  —ante  bcllnm  days, 
as  the  Latins  so  beautifully  termed  them. 
May  I  not  adapt  to  the  present  occasion 
this  undying  line  from  French  literature, 
and  cry  from  the  depths  of  my  heart,  Vive 
le  Fairoi?  I  think  I  may. 

"  As  I  have  frequently  remarked  on 
other  occasions,  I  should  have  preferred 
that  this  office  I  am  to  perform  to-day 
had  fallen  to  another.  It  has  been  many 
years  since  I  have 

'  Dag  an'  delf  in 
Impe  and  Elfin,' 

as  our  great  —  I  should  say  England's 
great  — poet  Chaucer  m'ight  have  said 
upon  a  similar  occasion,  had  he  been 


OF  OLD    TALES.  1 7 

called  upon  to  stand  in  loco  modemtoris 
to  so  enlightened  an  assemblage  as  I  see 
before  me.  There  are  others  who  are 
better  fitted  than  I  to  act  in  this  capacity  ; 
but  as  I  have  made  it  one  of  the  invari 
able  rules  of  my  life  nee  qucere  nee  spermre 
honor  em,  —  ich  dicn. 

"  Not  to  detain  you  longer  than  is  neces 
sary,  —  for,  as  Bacon  has  said,  when  things 
are  come  to  the  execution  there  is  no 
secrecy  comparable  to  celerity,  —  I  will  in 
troduce  to  you  the  Eminent  Realist,  with 
whom,  in  accordance  with  the  scriptural 
prophecy,  *  By  their  works  ye  shall  know 
them,'  many  of  you  are  doubtless  already 
familiar.  The  distinguished  gentleman  has 
kindly  consented  to  lay  before  us  the  par 
ticulars  of  the  pathetic  career  of  '  Hop 
O'  My  Thumb.' " 

After  the  applause  which  greeted  these 
remarks  had  subsided,  the  Eminent  Real- 


i8 


NEW   WAGGINGS 


ist,  adjusting  his  necktie  and  taking  his 
manuscript  from  the  upper  right-hand 
pocket  of  his  coat,  advanced  to  the  edge 
of  the  platform  and  read :  — 

THE    RISE    OF    HOP    O'    MY   THUMB. 

HEN  Barclay  Wil 
liams  went  to  in 
terview  Hop  O' 
My  Thumb  for  the 
"  Solid  Men  of 
Fairy-land "  series 
which  he  under 
took  to  finish  up 

I     /  for  the  "Decade" 

•«  JV      ^-w  after    he  had  paid 

^^ -"  the    debts    of  that 

newspaper  and  ac 
quired  its  ownership,  My  Thumb  received 
him  in  his  private  office  by  previous 
appointment. 


OF  OLD    TALES.  1 9 

Barclay  hesitated,  as  he  entered  the  door, 
whether  he  should  wipe  his  feet  on  the  mat 
or  not.  To  be  sure  there  was  a  sign  re 
questing  him  to  do  so  pinned  upon  the 
upper  left-hand  panel  of  the  door,  but 
a  large  sea-green  inscription,  WELCOME, 
upon  the  mat  itself  seemed  to  forbid  any 
such  familiarity.  Unfortunately  his  em 
barrassment  was  considerably  augmented 
by  Hop  O'  My  Thumb  himself,  who,  upon 
hearing  a  footstep  without,  cleared  his 
throat  and  pushing  his  chair  backward 
about  two  feet  from  his  desk  began  to 
wonder  whose  footstep  it  was.  He  thought 
he  recognized  the  squeak  of  the  shoes  as 
belonging  to  Barclay,  but  he  was  not  cer 
tain  enough  on  the  point  to  come  to  any 
definite  conclusion;  so  turning  halfway 
round  he  arose  from  his  chair  and  started 
to  walk  toward  the  door,  glancing  furtively 
at  the  transom  as  he  did  so. 


20  NEW   WAGGINGS 

"  Come  in,"  he  said. 

Barclay  still  hesitated.  There  was  some 
thing  in  Hop  O'  My  Thumb's  tone  that  con 
tributed  further  to  his  uncertainty  on  the 
question  of  the  door-mat.  If  he  wiped  his 
feet  on  My  Thumb's  WELCOME,  My  Thumb 
might  be  angry ;  on  the  other  hand,  if  he 
disregarded  the  warning  on  the  door- panel 
he  still  might  give  offence.  A  hurried 
glance  at  his  shoes  decided  him.  They  were 
not  at  all  muddy,  and  then  he  remembered 
that  he  had  come  from  his  house  in  a  cab 
and  that  the  shoes  were  new.  He  smiled 
quietly  to  himself,  and  remembering  his 
early  athletic  successes  at  college  he  jumped 
easily  over  the  mat  and  found  himself 
confronted  by  his  host,  whose  misgivings 
as  to  whether  or  not  Barclay  was  a  creditor 
had  led  him  to  put  on  his  seven-league 
boots  in  the  interval  between  his  invitation 
to  enter  and  the  entrance  of  his  guest. 


OF  OLD    TALES.  21 

"  Oh,  it 's  you,  is  it?  "  said  Hop  O'  some 
what  absently,  spurning  a  three-legged 
stool  across  the  room  to  where  Barclay 
stood  and  motioning  to  him  to  be  seated. 

"  How  did  you  guess?"  asked  Barclay, 
surprised  at  this  sudden  recognition. 

"  I  don't  know,"  replied  Hop  O'  My 
Thumb  with  charming  naivete.  "  Because 
you  look  so  like  yourself,  perhaps,  or  be 
cause  you — "  then  he  stopped  and  fondled 
his  watch-chain  nervously.  It  was  evident 
that  he  could  not  think  of  any  other  rea 
son.  Barclay  felt  his  embarrassment  com 
ing  over  him  again,  and  inadvertently 
broke  the  end  of  his  lead-pencil. 

"  What  do  you  want,  young  man?"  con 
tinued  My  Thumb,  recovering  his  com 
posure  with  some  apparent  effort. 

"  Your  life,"  said  Barclay.  "  We  want 
the  lives  of  all  the  great  men  of  Fairy 
land  for  the  '  Decade.'  " 


22  NEW   WAGGINGS 

Hop  O'  My  Thumb  was  somewhat  star 
tled  at  Barclay's  first  words,  and  a  nervous 
movement  of  the  legs  placed  him  some 
distance  from  the  Interviewer.  He  had 
forgotten  to  remove  the  seven-league 
boots.  Another  nervous  twitch,  however, 
brought  him  back  to  Barclay's  side  in 
time  to  hear  his  last  \\ords.  Barclay  won 
dered  at  this  sudden  disappearance  and 
equally  sudden  reappearance  of  his  host, 
but  he  was  too  well  bred  to  express  any 
surprise.  He  merely  made  a  mental  note 
of  it  for  the  treatise  on  the  Eccentricities 
of  Genius,  which  he  was  preparing  for  a 
future  number  of  the  "  Pacific  Monthly." 

"  We  want  to  hear  about  this  Ogre 
business,  you  know  —  and  —  "  here  Bar 
clay  faltered  ever  so  slightly.  He  was  a 
Bostonian,  and  he  was  proud  of  it,  but  he 
did  not  want  to  appear  too  proud.  With 
much  effort  he  finished  his  sentence,  how- 


OF  OLD    TALES.  23 

ever.  "  And  how  you  were  befriended  by 
the —  the  beans."  Barclay  blushed. 

Hop  O'  My  Thumb  looked  at  him  si 
lently  and  then  laughed.  He  was  amused 
at  the  Interviewer's  embarrassment,  and 
made  no  effort  to  conceal  it. 

"  All  right,"  he  said ;  "  where  do  you 
want  me  to  begin?  " 

"  Might  begin  with  your  poor  but  hon 
est  parents,"  suggested  Barclay,  elevating 
his  eyebrows. 

A  smile  betrayed  that  Hop  O'  My 
Thumb  possessed  a  sense  of  humor.  He 
had  read  the  life  of  his  neighbor  John 
the  Slayer  of  Ogres,  in  the  preceding 
number  of  the  "  Decade,"  and  he  appre 
ciated  Barclay's  satirical  allusion  to  the 
opening  chapters  of  his  rival's  life. 

"  Well,"  he  replied  sadly,  "  I  had  'em." 

"  Seventeen  children,  all  girls  except 
the  boys,  I  suppose,"  Barclay  cut  in. 


24  NEW   WAGGINGS 

11  Yes,  seventeen,  and  all  girls  except 
the  boys,"  repeated  Hop  O'  My  Thumb, 
accepting  Barclay's  flippant  query  as  fact. 
It  was  not  fact,  but  then  Hop  O'  thought 
that  if  Barclay  was  satisfied  he  ought  to 
be;  and  then,  too,  Barclay  knew  just  what 
the  readers  of  the  "  Decade"  wanted,  while 
he  did  not. 

"  Hop  O'  My  Thumb,"  wrote  Barclay, 
"was  the  son  of  poor  but  honest  parents. 
There  were  seventeen  children  in  the 
family,  all  of  whom  were  girls  except  - 
by  the  way,  how  many  brothers  had 
you?  "  he  asked,  laying  down  his  pen. 

"  Seventeen,  I  think  you  said,"  replied 
Hop  O'  My  Thumb,  throwing  his  left  leg 
across  his  right  knee. 

"  Oh,  come  now  !  "  ejaculated  Barclay, 
a  little  out  of  patience.  He  did  not  like 
to  be  balked  so  early  in  the  interview,  and 
he  could  not  help  feeling  that  perhaps 


OF  OLD    TALES. 


Hop  O'  My  Thumb  was  making  game  of 
him.  <(  You  just  said  they  were  all  girls 
except  the  boys." 

"Well,"    replied    Hop   O'    My   Thumb, 
"  so    they  were.     But  we  were  all   excep- 


26  NEW   WAGGINGS 

tions  in  my  family.  It  was  an  exceptional 
family,  you  know." 

11  Very  well,"  returned  Barclay,  with  a 
comical  look  of  resignation  in  his  face. 
"  Go  on  and  tell  me  all  about  it.  You 
were  the  biggest  of  the  lot,  I  presume," 
he  added  sarcastically. 

"  I  think,  Mr.  Williams,"  replied  Hop  O' 
with  a  quiet  dignity,  "  that  if  you  intend 
to  make  this  a  satirical  article  you  would 
do  better  to  leave  me  out  of  it." 

"  Oh  no,"  said  the  Interviewer,  un 
abashed  ;  "  a  biography  of  Hop  O'  My 
Thumb  with  you  left  out  would  be  like 
Boston  deprived  of  the  east  wind." 

"  Hop  O'  My  Thumb,"  wrote  Barclay, 
"  was  so  diminutive  in  stature  that  his 
progenitors  conferred  upon  him  the  ap 
pellation  by  which  he  is  now  so  generally 
and  popularly  known.  But  Nature,  as  if 
regretting  the  exigencies  which  had  com- 


OF  OLD    TALES.  2J 

pelled  her  to  make  him  physically  weak, 
had  more  than  compensated  him  by  the 
psychical  strength  with  which  she  endowed 
him: 

"  There,"  he  added,  putting  his  pen 
behind  his  ear,  "how  does  that  go?" 

"  Very  well  indeed,"  was  Hop  O's  en 
thusiastic  rejoinder.  "  It  is  the  most  ex 
pressive  and  eloquent  way  of  saying, 
'  Little,  but  oh  my ! '  I  have  ever  seen. 
Are  you  going  to  write  the  whole  of  this 
life  in  words  of  ten  syllables?" 

"  One  must  be  original,"  said  Barclay, 
apologetically;  "and  besides,  it  must  be 
made  so  that  children  will  comprehend 
and  be  instructed  by  it." 

"  Of  course,"  said  Hop  Of.  "1  Ve  no 
ticed  that  all  the  one-syllabled  editions 
of  my  reminiscences  have  had  to  be  eluci 
dated  by  very  highly-colored  cuts.  Yours 
is  not  an  illustrated  paper,  I  believe?  " 


28  NEW  WAGGINGS 

"  No,  I  'm  happy  to  say  it  is  not,"  re 
plied  Barclay  a  little  impatiently. 

"  I  'm  sorry  about  that,"  said  My  Thumb, 
reflectively.  "  It  would  have  seemed 
more  homelike  to  appear  in  an  illustrated 
weekly.  Father  was  a  wood-cutter,  you 
know." 

As  Hop  O'  My  Thumb  spoke  these 
words  the  door-bell  rang  and  he  excused 
himself  for  a  moment  to  answer  it.  In 
the  interim  Barclay  numbered  the  pages 
of  his  manuscript  consecutively,  and  lean 
ing  back  in  his  chair  jotted  down  a  few 
lead-pencil  notes. 

"  Children  retire  to  bed." 

"  Hop  'O  My  Thumb  suffers  from  insomnia." 

Barclay  chuckled  as  he  wrote  this. 
"  Too  short   to  sleep  long,  I  suppose," 
he  remarked  to  himself.    Then  he  wrote,  — 

"  Overhears  parents  weeping  because  of  short 
ness  of  the  larder." 


OF  OLD    TALES,  2g 

"  Hop  decides  to  prepare  for  the  worst,  and 
pockets  the  next  day's  bean  supply." 

When  Barclay  had  written  thus  far  the 
point  of  his  pencil  broke,  and  while  he 
was  meditating  whether  or  not  to  re- 
sharpen  it,  Hop  O'  My  Thumb  returned. 
Barclay  watched  him  curiously  as  he  en 
tered,  and  noticed  that  his  host  took  par 
ticular  pains  to  elude  the  door-mat,  just 
as  he  had  done.  He  was  secretly  pleased 
that  he  did  so.  It  made  him  feel  more 
at  his  ease  than  he  had  felt  at  any  time 
since  he  had  entered  the  house. 

"Back  again?"  he  asked  quietly,  as 
Hop  O'  My  Thumb  entered. 

"  I  don't  know,"  retorted  Hop  O'  My 
Thumb,  absently.  "What?  Oh  yes.  I 
beg  your  pardon,  I  was  thinking  of  some 
thing  else.  Yes,  I  'm  back  again.  How 
far  have  you  got  ?  " 

"  I  have  reached  the  point  where  you 


30  NEW   LAGGINGS 

surreptitiously  removed,  the  beans  from 
the  larder,"  replied  Barclay,  glancing  at 
his  notes. 

"  They  were  n't  beans,  Mr.  Williams,  they 
were  pebbles,"  said  Hop  O'  My  Thumb, 
gazing  at  Barclay  with  astonishment. 

"  Oh,  I  know  that.  But  we  Ve  got  to 
give  it  a  touch  or  two  of  local  color  —  a 
contemporaneousness,  you  know." 

"Well,  it  seems  to  me  that  it's  a  con 
temporaneousness  that  I  don't  know,  and 
don't  care  to  know,  that  you  Ve  got  hold 
of.  If  you  think  I  'm  going  to  cut  off 
entirely  from  my  past  you  're  mistaken, 
and  if  you  don't  want  my  life  as  I  lived 
it  you  mustn't  come  to  me  for  points. 
Go  to  the  newspapers." 

"  Well,  well,  have  your  own  way.  Peb 
bles  it  is  —  pebbles  it  are  —  pebb— 

"  Never  mind,"  said  Hop  O'  My  Thumb, 
kindly,  4t  if  pebbles  mix  you  up  so,  make 


OF  OLD    TALES.  31 

it  beans.  I  took  the  beans,  and  when 
my  poor  but  honest  parents  lost  my 
nineteen  brothers  and  myself  in  the 
woods,  I  dropped  the  beans  one  by  one 
along  the  roadway,  and  when  night  came 
on,  with  the  aid  of  the  street  lamps  and 
the  beans  together,  I  led  my  ten  sorrow 
ing  little  relatives  back  to  their  home, 
much  to  the  surprise  of  my  father  and 
mother,  who  were  having  an  oyster  supper 
in  honor  of  their  bereavement  as  we 
entered." 

Barclay  stroked  his  chin  and  blushed. 
Why  he  did  the  former  he  knew  not,  but 
for  the  latter  he  could  readily  account. 
He  felt  that  some  one  should  blush  for 
such  inconsistency  and  patent  perversion 
of  fact  as  he  had  just  listened  to,  and  as 
Hop  O'  My  Thumb  showed  no  disposition 
to  do  it,  he  thought  it  his  bounden  duty 
to  assume  his  host's  responsibilities. 


32  NEW  WAGGINGS 

"Mr.  Hop  O1  My  Thumb,"  he  said 
gravely,  after  some  moments'  reflection, 
"  do  you  wish  street  lamps  introduced 
into  this  biography?" 

"Why  not?  Aren't  they  contempora 
neous  enough?"  queried  Hop  O',  biting 
off  the  end  of  his  cigar  and  drawing  a 
match  slowly  across  the  sole  of  his  shoe. 

Barclay  gazed  out  of  the  window.  He 
perceived  that  in  spite  of  the  fact  that  he 
had  been  graduated  at  Harvard,  in  spite 
of  the  fact  that  he  lived  on  Beacon  Street 
and  knew  who  his  grandfather  was,  Hop 
O'  My  Thumb  had  him.  It  galled  him 
considerably,  but  he  was  too  sensible  a 
man  to  let  My  Thumb  see  the  true  state 
of  his  feelings. 

"  All  right.  Please  continue,"  was  all 
he  said. 

Hop  O'  My  Thumb  resumed :  — 

"  Mother  was  glad  to  see  us,  and  father 


OF  OLD    TALES.  33 

with  some  embarrassment  asked  us  when 
we  got  back.  I  made  some  inopportune 
reply,  to  the  effect  that  we  had  returned 
the  very  moment  we  arrrived,  which  so 
enraged  father  that  he  sent  us  all  to  bed 
without  any  supper.  The  next  day  we 
were  conducted  to  the  forest  again,  but 
not  before  I  had  taken  the  precaution  to 
empty  my  little  missionary  bank  of  its 
contents,  which,  for  the  want  of  pebb —  I 
beg  pardon  —  beans,  I  dropped  along  the 
road.  Unfortunately  I. failed  to  notice  that 
father  walked  behind  me,  picking  up  the 
dimes  and  nickels  as  I  dropped  them." 

At  this  point  Hop  O'  My  Thumb  was 
visibly  affected,  and  Barclay  not  wishing 
to  intrude  upon  his  grief,  went  across  the 
street  to  purchase  a  cigar. 

When  he  returned,  Hop  O'  had  regained 
his  wonted  composure,  and  offered  Bar 
clay  a  light.  This  the  newspaper  man 
3 


34  NEW   WAGGIKGS 

graciously  accepted,  and  placing  his  hat 
upon  the  mantel-piece  he  reseated  himself 
at  the  desk. 

•"  That  night,"  said  Hop  O'  My  Thumb, 
"  all  thirteen  of  us  were  irrevocably  lost." 

"Thirteen  is  an  unlucky  number,"  sug 
gested  Barclay,  with  a  vain  hope  of  driv 
ing  Hop  O'  back  to  the  original  number 
of  brothers. 

"  I  know  it ;  but  don't  you  think  it  makes 
the  story  more  weird  and  interesting?" 
replied  Hop  O'.  "  You  might  also  say 
that  the  missionaries  lost  thirteen  dollars 
by  my  foolishness  and  my  father's  watch 
fulness,  if  you  think  it  would  add  to  the 
story.  Of  course,"  he  resumed,  "  it  rained 
that  night,  and  as  luck  would  have  it  all 
the  boys  had  brought  their  canes.  There 
was  not  a  solitary  umbrella  in  the  whole 
party.  That  adds  another  item  to  the 
long  list  of  mishaps  attendant  on  thirteen. 


OF  OLD    TALES.  35 

It  is  very  unlucky  for  thirteen  men  to  be 
out  in  a  rain-storm  with  canes." 

"  It  is,"  said  Barclay,  looking  despair 
ingly  at  Hop  O'.  "  Suppose  we  let  the 
number  drop?  It  may  kill  one  of  us." 

"  As  you  please,"  responded  My  Thumb, 
good-naturedly;  "half  that  number  of 
brothers  is  enough  for  me." 

"  What  did  you  do  when  the  rain  came 
on?"  asked  Barclay,  not  unmusically 
knocking  his  pencil  against  his  teeth. 

"  Let  her  come,"  flippantly  replied  My 
Thumb  with  a  pleasant  smile,  which  dis 
played  a  fine  white  set  of  teeth  of  which 
their  owner  was  justly  proud. 

"  I  knew  that,"  was  Barclay's  indignant 
response,  "  but  what  else  did  you  do?  " 

"  Got  wet,"  replied  My  Thumb,  his 
smile  extending  into  a  loud  guffaw.  Then 
noticing  a  look  of  pained  surprise  on  his 
caller's  face,  he  hastened  to  add,  "  We 


36  NEW   WAGGINGS 

pulled  the  bell-knob  of  a  solitary  castle 
that  \ve  perceived  on  the  neighboring 
moor.  The  bell  responded,  as  I  rather 
suspected  it  would,  and  after  a  temporary 
lull  of  say  five  or  ten  minutes,  the  lady 
of  the  house  appeared  and  earnestly 
requested  us  to  move  on." 

"And  you  moved?"  queried  Barclay, 
pulling  at  his  trousers  to  keep  them  from 
bagging  at  the  knees. 

"  Not  an  inch,"  said  My  Thumb  with 
dignity.  "  We  moved  in,  the  whole  six 
and  a  half  of  us  —  " 

"  Now,  see  here,"  interrupted  Barclay, 
his  ire  again  rising;  "what  do  you  mean 
by  'six  and  a  half  of  us?'1 

"  I  thought  we  settled  on  it  that  thir 
teen  brothers  were  at  least  twice  too 
many?"  said  Hop  O'. 

"Well,  we  did,  but  six  and  a  half  is  such 
an  odd  number,"  rejoined  Barclay,  irritably. 


OF  OLD    TALES.  37 

"  Not  at  all,"  said  Hop  O'.  "  If  it  were 
seven  or  five  it  would  be  an  odd  —  " 

"  Oh,  I  don't  mean  that  way,"  retorted 
Barclay,  tapping  the  oil-cloth  with  his  toe. 
"  You  could  n't  have  six  and  a  half 
brothers;  the  idea  is  absurd." 

"  I  don't  see  why,"  replied  Hop  O',  with 
an  injured  look.  "  A  man  can  have  a 
half-brother,  I  believe,  can't  he?" 

Barclay  was  silent.  Hop  O'  My  Thumb's 
statement  admitted  of  no  denial,  so  he 
thought  it  best  to  appear  satisfied  at  the 
turn  things  had  taken.  After  an  interval 
of  some  minutes  Hop  O'  My  Thumb 
resumed :  — 

"  We  were  rather  sorry  after  we  had  en 
tered  the  house  so  unceremoniously,  as  we 
found  it  belonged  to  a  gentleman  whose 
chief  delight  consisted  in  the  devouring  of 
little  boys  on  the  half-shell.  Mrs.  Ogre 
gave  us  a  chance  to  leave  the  place  before 


38  NEW   WAGGIXGS 

her  husband  returned  from  the  Museum, 
where  he  displayed  his  physical  peculiari 
ties  to  the  populace  at  a  dime  per  head ; 
but  before  we  could  get  out  of  the  house," 
—  Hop  O'  My  Thumb  called  it  /levuse,  — 
•'  the  proprietor  walked  in  hungrier  than  a 
girl  of  sixteen  after  a  german." 

"  Is  she  anything  like  an  American  girl 
of  thirty  after  an  Englishman?"  queried 
Barclay,  flippantly. 

"  Fortunately,"  continued  Hop  O',  with 
a  scornful  smile  at  the  Interviewer's  sally, 
"  the  ice-chest  was  large,  and  we  managed 
to  hide  before  the  Ogre  came  into  the 
room.  But  our  fancied  security  did  n't 
last  long. 

"  '  Do  I  smell  any  little  boys  around 
here,  madame  ? '  the  Ogre  asked  of  his 
wife. 

"'Yes,  husband,'  said  the  poor  woman, 
'there  is  a  little  cold  youth  downstairs, 


OF  OLD    TALES.  39 

left  over  from  Sunday's  dinner.     I  —  I  — 
I    thought   you  'd    like    it;   hashed   for   to 
morrow's  breakfast,'  she  added. 

"'All  right,'  replied  the  giant;  'I'm 
glad  you  have  it,  for  little  boys  are  out 
of  season  just  now,  and  I  can't  get  any 
nice  ones  in  the  market.  Hello  !  what 's 
that?'  he  added  sharply. 

"  It  was  a  very  unfortunate  thing,  but 
my  youngest  brother,  boy-like,  had  con 
structed  a  slide  on  one  of  the  Ogre's 
ice-cakes,  and  while  indulging  in  youthful 
sport  he  fell,  making  such  a  noise  that 
our  presence  was  revealed.  We  were 
very  much  frightened,  and  offered  to  let 
the  Ogre  have  our  little  half-brother  if  he 
would  let  the  rest  of  us  go ;  but  he  was 
adamant." 

"That's  hard,"  cut  in  Barclay. 

Hop  O'  My  Thumb  got  up  from  his 
chair,  and  crossing  the  room  opened  a 


40  NEW  WAGGINGS 

drawer  in  the  small  mahogany  escritoire 
which  stood  opposite  the  window.  After 
rummaging  around  among  his  papers 
for  a  few  minutes  he  picked  up  a  small 
pocket  edition  of  Webster's  Dictionary, 
and  turned  rapidly  over  the  "A"  pages 
until  he  came  apparently  to  the  word 
he  wanted.  He  then  replaced  the  book 
where  he  found  it,  and  locking  the  drawer 
returned  to  his  chair.  Barclay  gazed  at 
him  wonderingly  for  a  moment  and  then 
asked, — 

"Well?" 

"  You  arc  right,"  said  Hop  O',  "  ada 
mant  is  hard." 

Barclay  smiled  wanly.  It  was  all  he 
could  do,  and  he  did  it  as  wanly  as  he 
knew  how.  He  saw  that  Hop  O'  My 
Thumb  had  missed  his  true  vocation  in 
life  and  it  saddened  him.  He  tore  a  small 
bit  of  paper  from  the  edge  of  a  sample 


OF  OLD    TALES.  41 

copy  of  the  "  Decade "  that  he  always 
carried  with  him,  and  threw  it  pensively 
into  the  waste-basket. 

Hop  O'  for  the  first  time  during  the 
interview  seemed  embarrassed.  The 
thought  flashed  across  his  mind  that  he 
had  gone  too  far,  and  he  was  repentant. 
It  was  some  moments  before  he  spoke 
again,  but  when  he  did  speak  there  was 
an  indescribable  tenderness  in  his  voice 
that  Barclay  had  not  given  him  credit 
for. 

"Then,"  he  said  softly,  "we  were  filed 
away  upstairs  to  fatten,  and  to  those  who 
know  us  it  is  needless  to  say  that  we  did 
fatten." 

"  It  is  not  a  laborious  task  to  fatten 
at  another's  expense,"  said  Barclay  in 
parenthesis. 

"  The  night  before  the  festival  at  which 
my  brothers  and  I  were  to  be  served," 


NEW   WAGGINGS 


continued  Hop  O', 
resolved  to  ignore 
the  insinuating  re 
marks  of  his  visitor, 
"  I    bethought   me 
of  a  method  of  es 
cape.      I  hurriedly 
dressed  my  family 
up  in  the  clothing 
of  the  Ogre's  daugh 
ters,    and    when    the 
butcher     came     that 
night    he    immolated 
the  young  ladies  in 
stead   of  us,  and  we 
climbed     down     the 
lightning-rod  into  the 
moat    and    took    to 
the  woods.   The  next 
morning,    when    the 
Ogre  discovered  the 
trick  we  had   played 


OF  OLD   TALES.  43 

on  him,  he  was  very  much  annoyed,  so 
he  put  on  his  seven-league  boots  and 
started  after  us.  But  I  had  a  ruse  for 
him." 

"  A  Charlotte  russe,  I  suppose,"  put  in 
Barclay,  dryly. 

"  No,"  rejoined  Hop  O',  "  not  a  Char 
lotte  russe;  we  could  n't  sponge  cake 
enough  for  that.  We  six  and  a  half 
brothers  each  took  a  different  route,  and 
the  Ogre  got  so  tired  trying  to  make  up 
his  mind  as  to  which  of  us  was  the  most 
luscious  that  he  fell  asleep.  Then  came  my 
chance.  I  was  on  friendly  terms  with  the 
sea-serpent  at  the  Ogre's  Museum,  and  I 
knew  he  was  jealous  of  the  Giant  whose 
name  was  printed  in  larger  letters  on  the 
bills  than  his.  I  immediately  despatched 
my  half-brother  to  him  with  word  to  come 
to  me  at  once  with  his  stinger.  He  came, 
and  was  only  too  glad  to  fasten  his  fangs 


44  NEW  W 'A GG 'INGS 

on  the  Ogre,  who  died  in  great  agony 
about  t\vo  hours  later." 

"  There  is  no  poison  like  jealousy,"  said 
Barclay,  whistling  a  low  tune  to  himself. 

"No,  indeed;  and  the  sea-serpent  is  a 
good  deal  of  a  green-eyed  monster,  you 
know,"  replied  Hop  O',  relighting  his  ci 
gar.  "  I  searched  the  Ogre's  pockets  and 
found  a  certified  check  for  all  his  wealth, 
payable  to  bearer,  with  a  signed  deed  to 
all  his  property  in  blank.  I  felt  rather 
sorry  for  his  wife.  She  had  been  very 
good  to  me  during  my  sojourn  in  her 
husband's  castle,  and  I  was  instrumental 
in  her  losing  her  children ;  so  after  I  had 
had  the  transfer  recorded,  and  had  cashed 
the  check,  I  got  her  appointed  to  a  post- 
mastership  in  Oregon,  where  she  gets  a 
commission  on  the  stamps  she  sells." 

"  Of  course  you  sought  out  your  father 
and  mother  after  acquiring  all  this  wealth  ?" 


OF  OLD   TALES.  45 

said  Barclay  with  a  sigh  of  relief  that  the 
biography  was  so  nearly  completed. 

"  Well,  ahem !  "  replied  Hop  O',  ner 
vously,  "  the  fact  is  I  —  ah  —  by  the  way, 
take  a  handful  of  these  souvenir  pebbles," 
he  said,  turning  away  his  head  to  hiSe  the 
blush  which  suffused  his  cheek,  and  taking 
half  a  dozen  small  stones  from  his  pocket. 

"  Hop  O'  My  Thumb  has  been  known 
to  blush,"  wrote  Barclay  in  his  note-book. 
Then  he  said  ''Pebbles?  What  are  they 
for?" 

"  Oh,  they  helped  me  find  my  way  home. 
They  may  help  you  to  find  yours,"  re 
turned  My  Thumb,  pointing  toward  the 
door  in  a  suggestive  manner.  "  You 
ought  to  write  up  this  interview  while  it 's 
fresh,  and  you  doubtless  wish  to  get  to 
work  on  it." 

Hop  O'  My  Thumb  said  woyk  for  work, 
but  Barclay  understood  him  nevertheless. 


46     NEW  WAGGINGS  OF  OLD  TALES. 

"  Yes,"  he  said,  "  I  do  wish  to  get  to 
work  on  it,  although  an  interview  as  fresh 
as  this  has  been  will  keep  a  long  time ;  " 
and  then  he  slammed  the  door  violently 
and  was  gone. 

"  If  that  man  makes  me  out  a  Munchau- 
sen,  I  '11  kill  him ! "  said  Hop  O'  My  Thumb, 
getting  up  and  throwing  his  cigar-stump 
out  of  the  window. 


INTRODUCTION 

OF   THE    LEADER    OF    THE 

FLESHLY   SCHOOL. 


GAIN  the  Distinguished 
Diplomat  stepped  to 
the  edge  of  the  plat 
form  and  wished 
that  some  one 
else  had  been 
called  upon  to 
perform  the  pleasant  duty  of  introducing 
the  readers.  "  For,"  said  he,  "I  have 
never  been  afflicted  with  the  cacoethes 
loquendi,  —  indeed,  what  cacoethes  I  have 
is  more  scribendi  than  otherwise.  But  bon 
gre  mat  gre  je  snis  id  tout  de  meine. 

"  The  great  Leader  of  the  Fleshly  School 
whose   name  is  next  snr  le  tapis  was  in- 


4$  NEW   WAGGINGS 

vitcd  to  wag  for  us  a  discretion  the  tale  of 
Mary's  Lamb ;  but  a  glance  at  the  manu 
script  a  few  moments  since  convinced  me 
that  the  beaux  esprits  of  the  poet  had  led 
him  to  adorn  the  tale  with  a  few  face 
tious  flights  of  fancy  unfitted  to  the  pres 
ent  occasion.  However,  humanum  cst 
errare  ety  mutatis  mutandis,  revenons  a 
no s  mou tons" 

The  Poet,  blushing  deeply,  bowed  to  the 
audience  and  began. 

iMARY   AND   THE 
LAMB. 

MARY,  —  what  melo 
dies  mingle 
To    murmur    her 
musical  name  ! 
It    makes    all    one's 
finger-tips  tingle 
Like  fagots,  the  food  of  the  flame  : 


OF  OLD   TALES.  49 

About  her  an  ancient  tradition 

A  romance  delightfully  deep 
Has  woven  in  juxtaposition 

With  one  little  sheep,  — 

One  dear  little  lamb  that  would  follow 

Her  footsteps,  unwearily  fain, 
Down  dale,  over  hill,  over  hollow, 

To  school  and  to  hamlet  again ; 
A  gentle  companion  whose  beauty 

Consisted  in  snow-driven  fleece, 
And  whose  most  imperative  duty 

Was  keeping  the  peace. 

His  eyes  were  as  beads  made  of  glassware, 

His  lips  were  coquettishly  curled, 
His  capers  made  many  a  lass  swear 

His  caper-sauce  baffled  the  world  ; 
His  tail  had  a  wag  when  it  relished 

A  sip  of  the  milk  in  the  pail,  — 
And  this  fact  has  largely  embellished 

The  wag  of  this  tale. 
4 


50  NEW  WAGGINGS 

One  calm  summer  day  when  the  sun  was 

A  great  golden  globe  in  the  sky, 
One  mild  summer  morn  when  the  fun  was 

Unspeakably  clear  in  his  eye, 
He  tagged  after  exquisite  Mary, 

And  over  the  threshold  of  school 
He  tripped  in  a  temper  contrary, 

And  splintered  the  rule. 

A  great  consternation  was  kindled 

Among  all  the  scholars,  and  some 
Confessed  their  affection  had  dwindled 

For  lamby,  and  looked  rather  glum  : 
But  Mary's  schoolmistress  quick  beckoned 

The  children  away  from  the  jam, 
And  said,  sotto  voce,  she  reckoned 

That  Mame  loved  the  lamb. 

Then  all  up  the  spine  of  the  rafter 
There  ran  a  most  risible  shock, 

And  sorrow  was  sweetened  with  laughter 
At  this  little  lamb  of  the  flock ; 


OF  OLD    TALES. 

And  out  spoke  the  schoolmistress  Yankee, 
With  rather  a  New  Hampshire  whine, 

"  Dear  pupils,  sing  Moody  and  Sankey, 
Hymn  '  Ninety  and  Nine.' " 


Now  after  this  music  had  finished, 
And  silence  again  was  restored, 

The  ardor  of  lamby  diminished, 

His  quips  for  a  moment  were  floored. 


52    NEW  WAGG1NGS  OF  OLD  TALES. 

Then  cried  he,  "  Bah-ed  children,  you  blundered 
When  singing  that  psalmistry,  quite  : 

I  'm  labelled  by  Mary  '  Old  Hundred,' 
And  I  'm  labeUed  right." 

Then  vanished  the  lambkin  in  glory, 

A  halo  of  books  round  his  head  : 
What  furthermore  happened  the  story, 

Alackaday  !  cannot  be  said. 
And  Mary,  the  musical  maid,  is 

To-day  but  a  shadow  in  time  ; 
Her  epitaph,  too,  I  'm  afraid  is 

Writ  only  in  rhyme. 

She  's  sung  by  the  cook  at  her  ladle 

That  stirs  up  the  capering  sauce ; 
She  's  sung  by  the  nurse  at  the  cradle 

When  Ba-ba  is  restless  and  cross  : 
And  lamby,  whose  virtues  were  legion, 

Dwells  ever  in  songs  that  we  sing, 
He  makes  a  nice  dish  in  this  region 

To  eat  in  the  spring  ! 


THE 

DISCIPLE    OF    AMBIGUITY 
IS   INTRODUCED. 


experience  in 
public  life,"  said 
the  Distinguished  Diplo 
mat,  "  has  taught  me  that 
ambiguity  is  the  mother 
of  success.  The  Venus  of 
Milo  is  doubtless  more  satisfactory  to  a 
large  majority  of  mankind  with  her  arms 
buried  in  oblivion  than  had  she  been 
found  with  those  desirable  adjuncts  at 
her  side.  There  is  a  pleasing  uncertainty 
about  them.  Were  they  graceful,  or  were 
they  not  ;  were  they  plump,  or  were  they 
lean?  In  fact  the  old,  old  question  arises 
—  was  it  the  Lady  or  the  Tiger  ? 


54  NEW  WAGGINGS 

"  The  poet  spoke  truly  who  said,  Me 
dium  tcnnere  beati.  Indeed,  happy  is  this 
Disciple  of  Ambiguity,  who  has  kept  the 
middle  course,  and  has  permitted  his  read 
ers  to  adopt  his  means  to  justify  their  ends. 
Will  the  ambiguous  gentleman  kindly 
begin?  " 

There  was  nothing  equivocal  in  the 
Disciple's  acquiescence,  for  he  at  once 
began  to  read. 

THE    DISCOURAGER  OF   CURIOSITY. 

IT  was  nearly  a  year  and  seven  weeks 
after  the  occurrence  of  that  event  in  the 
arena  of  the  semi-barbaric  Potentate  known 
as  the  incident  of  the  Beauty  and  the  Beast, 
that  there  came  to  the  Bungalow  of  this 
Tyrant  an  Investigating  Committee  of  five 
commissioners  from  the  State  of  Michigan. 
These  men,  of  venerable  and  dignified  as- 


OF  OLD    TALES.  55 

pect  and  demeanor,  were  received  by  the 
Second  Deputy  Vice-Vizier  of  the  Dead 
Letter  Department,  and  to  him  they  made 
known  their  errand. 

"  Most   noble    Office-Holder,"    said    the 
speaker    of  the    deputation,    "  it   so    hap 
pened  that  one  of  our 
fellow-citizens  was  pres- 
here,  in  your  very 


capital  city,  on  that  momentous  occasion 
when  a  young  Lochinvar  from  the  West 
who  had  dared  to  aspire  to  the  salary  of 
one  of  the  Potentate's  postmasterships  had 
been  placed  in  the  arena  in  the  midst  of 
an  assembled  multitude  of  Grand  Dukes, 
Grand  Duchesses,  Viziers,  and  Members 
of  Congress,  and  ordered  to  open  one  of 


56  NEW   WAGG1NGS 

two  envelopes,  not  knowing  whether  a 
warrant  providing  him  with  a  funeral  at 
the  expense  of  the  country,  or  a  com 
mission  for  a  fourth-class  postmastership 
under  a  Democratic  Administration,  would 
startle  his  anxious  gaze.  Our  friend  and 
brother  who  was  then  present,  most  un 
fortunately  found  himself  seated  behind  a 
lady  with  a  theatre  bonnet  of  such  stu 
pendous  proportions  upon  her  head,  that 
he  was  unable  to  see  which  of  the  two 
documents  the  prisoner  received,  nor  could 
any  but  those  in  the  front  row  sec  what 
the  fate  of  the  prisoner  was.  Our  towns 
man,  who  was  a  man  of  super-sensitive 
feelings,  was  so  overcome  with  indignation 
that  he  fled  precipitately  from  the  arena, 
and,  it  being  in  the  days  before  the  Inter- 
State  Commerce  Act  went  into  operation, 
producing  his  pass,  rode  homeward  as  fast 
as  he  could  go. 


OF  OLD    TALES.  $? 

"  We  were  all  very  much  interested  in 
the  story  which  our  countryman  told  us, 
as  it  involved  a  postmastership,  —  than 
which  there  is  nothing  dearer  to  the  aver 
age  patriotic  American,  —  and  we  were 
extremely  sorry  that  he  did  not  ask  the 
lady  to  remove  her  hat.  We  hoped,  how 
ever,  that  in  a  few  \veeks  some  traveller 
from  your  city  would  come  among  us 
and  bring  us  further  news;  but  up  to  the 
day  upon  which  we  left  our  country  only 
one  traveller  had  arrived,  possibly  owing 
to  the  fact  that  since  the  Inter-State  Act 
has  come  into  play  travellers  have  ceased 
to  arrive  in  Michigan,  —  that  is,  by  rail. 

"  He,  upon  hearing  our  question,  was 
unable  to  locate  the  performance,  saying 
that  from  what  he  read  in  the  magazines 
he  judged  there  had  been  several  such 
performances  lately,  adding  that  as  theatre 
hats  were  still  in  vogue,  he  supposed  the 


58  NEW  WAGGINGS 

mystery  was  still  as  great  as  ever.  At 
last  it  was  determined  that  the  only  thing 
to  be  done  was  to  send  a  deputation  to 
this  country  and  to  ask  the  question : 
Which  came  forth,  Death  or  the  Post- 
mastership?  " 

When  the  Office- Holder  had  heard  the 
mission  of  this  highly  respectable  deputa 
tion,  he  led  the  visitors  into  the  inner 
office  of  the  Bureau  of  Information,  where 
they  were  seated  on  cushions  stuffed  with 
queries  as  to  whether  it  was  the  Lady 
or  the  Tiger,  the  Lady  who  smiled  or  the 
Lady  who  frowned,  William  Bacon  or 
Lord  Shakspeare,  and  various  other  horns 
to  various  other  dilemmas,  and  where,  it 
being  Sunday  in  the  land,  lemonade,  cake, 
and  other  semi-barbaric  refreshments  were 
served  to  them.  Then,  taking  his  seat 
before  them,  the  Office- Holder  thus  ad 
dressed  the  visitors :  — 


OF  OLD    TALES.  59 

"  Most  noble  strangers,  before  answer 
ing  the  question  you  have  come  so  far  to 
ask,  I  will  relate  to  you  an  incident  which 
occurred  some  years  before  that  to  which 
you  have  referred." 

"  His  Most  High  Highness  is  going  to 
add  another  story  to  the  edifice,"  whis 
pered  the  Chairman  to  his  brother  com 
missioners,  touching  the  alarm  of  his 
repeater  for  the  purpose  of  timing  the 
narrative. 

"  I  hope  he  will  give  us  an  easier  one," 
returned  the  fourth  commissioner,  sighing 
deeply. 

"  And  I  hope  it  may  be  a  chincapin 
rather  than  a  chest  —  " 

"  It  is  well  known,"  said  the  narrator 
quickly,  "  that  in  the  days  of  King  Alfred 
there  lived  a  poor  woman." 

"  It  is,  indeed,"  returned  the  Chairman, 
interrupting  the  Vizier  in  a  wholly  bar- 


60  NEW  WAGGINGS 

baric  fashion,  thus  destroying  the  unities 
of  a  story  relating  to  a  semi-barbaric  age. 
"  I  have  read  in  my  copy  of  '  Every  Man 
His  Own  Historian,'  that  there  were  two 
poor  women  living  in  Alfred's  days." 

"  No  doubt  there  were,"  replied  the 
narrator  with  a  look  of  weariness,  not 
relishing  the  interruption ;  "  but  my  poor 
woman  was  a  widow." 

"Was  this  before  you  married  her?" 
queried  a  commissioner,  innocently. 

"  Sirrah,"  replied  the  Vice- Vizier  in 
truly  romantic  fashion,  "  the  mission  of 
a  Bureau  of  Information  is  not  to  answer 
questions.  Be  kind  enough  to  confine  your 
consumption  to  yon  regal  repast,  as  I  am 
quite  able  to  consume  all  the  time  at  our 
command.  This  lady  had  been  a  woman 
-  I  should  say  a  widow  —  for  several 
years,  and  had  but  one  son  named  Jack." 

"  That  is  not  very  extraordinary,"  whis- 


OF  OLD   TALES.  6 1 

pered  the  Chairman.  "  Out  in  Michigan 
widows  rarely  have  more  than  one  son 
named  Jack.  In  fact,  it  is  a  habit  Michi 
gan  widows  have,  not  to  admit  more  than 
one  Jack  into  a  family." 

"  Well,  I  surmise  you  were  the  Jack  of 
your  family,"  retorted  the  Vizier  with  fine 
scorn.  "But  our  Jack  was  no  fool,  al 
though  he  preferred  a  life  of  elegant  ease 
to  one  of  toil." 

"  Exactly  like  Michigan  Jacks,"  said  the 
fifth  commissioner,  sotto  vocc,  —  although 
he  would  probably  deny  the  Italian,  were 
he  confronted  with  it. 

"Jack  regularly  spent  the  widow's  in 
come  twice  over,"  resumed  the  narrator, 
"  and,  in  spite  of  his  mother's  constant 
entreaties,  he  would  not  settle  down  to 
a  life  other  than  that  of  a  frivolous  —  er 
-frivolous  —  other  than  that  of  a  frivo 
lous—" 


62 


NEW   WAGGINGS 


"  A  Frivolous  Frivoler,"  suggested  the 
second  commissioner,  seeing  that  the  nar 
rator  was  in  search  of  the  proper  idiom. 


"  Thanks,"  said  the  Vizier,  visibly  re 
lieved.  "  One  day  Jack  went  to  market, 
and  seeing  there  a  large  basket  full  of 
richly-colored  beans,  he  inquired  of  the 
market-man  what  they  were." 


OF  OLD    TALES.  63 

" '  Two  fra  dime/  replied  the  affable 
butcher. 

"  '  I  don't  mean  how  much  are  they,  but 
what  are  they?'  said  Jack  with  some  as 
perity. 

"  Now  the  butcher,  knowing  that  Jack's 
extravagant  nature  would  not  admit  of 
his  buying  ordinary  beans,  replied,  — 

"  '  That  is  a  new  vegetable ;  we  call  it 
Faba  vulgaris.  It  goes  mighty  well  with 
brown  bread ;  '  and  as  was  expected,  Jack 
was  so  impressed  with  the  rarity  of  the 
article  that  he  purchased  the  whole  stock. 
When  they  had  been  sent  home,  the  lad, 
not  knowing  what  else  to  do  with  them, 
constructed  a  bean  mine  in  the  rear  gar 
den  of  his  mother's  cottage. 

"  Imagine  his  surprise,  when  next  morn 
ing,  after  a  hard  rain,  he  perceived  a  Faba 
vulgaris  tree  shooting  upward  toward  the 
firmament  at  the  rate  of  forty  miles  an 


NEW   WAGGINGS 


hour;  and  what  was  worse, 
it  had  taken  a  large  part 
of  his  mother's  garden  with 
it,  including  the    chicken- 
coop    and    pump    in   the 
spoil.     This  meant  serious 
loss  to  Jack's  unfortunate 
mother,   and    the   lad  was 
at  his  wit's  ends  to  remedy 
the   wrong   of    which    his 
thoughtlessness  had  made 
him    guilty.      After  much 
thought    he    saw 
that     there     was 
but  one  thing  to 
do.        He    could 
not  pull  the  stalk 
up  —  it    was    up 
far      enough     al 
ready.     His   sole 
chance  of  regain- 


OF  OLD    TALES.  65 

ing  possession  of  his  property  was  to 
climb  to  the  top  of  the  tree  and  cut  it 
down  before  it  grew  higher;  and,  being 
a  man  of  impulse,  Jack  started." 

"  Who  did  you  say  was  king  at  this 
time?"  asked  the  Chairman.  "Ananias?" 

"  Alfred,  my  dear  sir,"  courteously  re 
plied  the  narrator.  "  Ananias  was  lying 
in  his  grave  at  this  period." 

"  Ah  !  "  was  the  response. 

"  How  John  managed  it  I  do  not  pre 
tend  to  say,"  said  the  Vizier,  resuming 
his  narrative,  "but  he  got  there  just  the 
same.  A  great  surprise  awaited  him,  for 
upon  reaching  the  top  of  the  tree,  he 
discovered  there  a  large  stretch  of  coun 
try,  which,  from  the  fact  that  it  had  a 
huge  granite  castle  built  upon  it,  Jack 
knew  could  not  have  been  carried  up  by 
the  impetuous  plant  from  his  mother's 
garden.  As  his  mother's  representative, 


66 


NEW  WAGGINGS 


however,  the  lad  entered  a  claim  for  the 
real  estate,  and  proceeded  to  call  upon 
the  owner  of  the  castle,  who,  he  learned, 
was  no  less  a  person  than  George  W. 
Ogre,  Esq.,  to  suggest  the  propriety  of  his 
transferring  the  title. 

"  On  his  way  thither  he  was  met  by  a 
fairy,  who  was   rather  thinly  dressed   for 


the  climate  at 
that  altitude,  and 
who,  it  seems,  had 
known  Jack's  father 
/  when  a  boy,  and  had 
supplied  the  butcher  with 
the  highly-colored  beans 
in  the  hope  of  getting  Jack  up  there  to 
call  upon  her.  She  intimated  to  our  hero 
that  the  Ogre  was  responsible  for  the 
poverty  of  his  mother  and  the  death  of 


OF  OLD   TALES.  67 

his  father,  adding  that  he  was  a  man  of 
peculiar  gastronomic  habits,  being  espe 
cially  fond  of  gar^on  croquettes  a  la  creme. 
Now  Jack  had  always  wished  himself  some 
one  else,  but  he  had  no  desire  to  become 
a  part  of  the  Ogre's  inner  man,  and  he  at 
once  proceeded  to  abscond ;  when,  much 
to  his  terror,  he  saw  the  giant  coming  up 
the  road  with  a  basket  of  babies  under  his 
arm.  Blinded  by  terror,  the  unfortunate 
boy  rushed  into  the  first  house  he  came 
to,  which  happened  to  be  the  Ogre's  resi 
dence,  and  fell  asleep  under  the  dining- 
room  table." 

"  You  don't  happen  to  have  a  dining- 
room  table  handy,  do  you  ? "  asked  one 
of  the  commissioners,  with  difficulty  sup 
pressing  a  yawn. 

The  sole  response  was  an  indignant 
glance. 

"  When  Jack  awoke  it  was  late  at  night. 


68  NEW   WAGGINGS 

He  rubbed  his  eyes  hard,  and  looking  up 
through  the  open  door  into  the  room  on 
the  other  side  of  the  hall,  he  perceived 
that  the  Ogre  was  experimenting  with  a 
patent  hen  which  could  lay  any  style  of 
egg  known  to  science,  and  a  few  other 
varieties  besides,  her  specialty  being  hard- 
boiled  nuggets. 

"  '  That  is  a  valuable  bird,'  thought 
Jack.  '  Indeed,  I  never  saw  henything 
like  it  before.  There  is  no  law  against 
stealing  from  ogres  that  I  know  of,  and 
if  the  roost  is  to  be  robbed  at  all,  I  Ve 
got  the  right  kind  of  a  conscience  to 
do  it.' 

"  '  Lay  an  egg!  '  said  the  Ogre,  address 
ing  the  hen,  and  unconsciously  interrupt 
ing  Jack's  moralizing. 

"  The  hen  obeyed. 

"  '  Lay  another  ! '  said  the  Ogre. 

"'What's   that?'  asked   the   hen.      'If 


OF  OLD    TALES.  69 

I've  got  to  lay  a  thing,  I  want  to  know 
what  it  is,  first.     I  never  saw  a  nother.' 

"Jack     with     difficulty     suppressed     a 
laugh.      He     had     never    seen    a     really 


bright 
hen     like 
this     before, 
and     he    was 

^^W  ^FMI^  amused.  Fortu 
nately  the  Ogre's  au 
tomatic  harp  began  playing 
at  this  moment,  and  Jack's  smothered 
smile  was  drowned  by  a  variety  of  noises, 
which  an  etched  inscription  on  the  metal 
back  of  the  harp  affirmed  was  the  song, 
'  What  is  Home  without  a  Mortgage?  '  In 
gratitude  for  the  service  thus  rendered  him 


70  NEW  WAGGINGS 

Jack  resolved  to  steal  the  harp  too,  if  he 
could ;  and  in  order  to  support  his  new 
possessions  in  proper  style,  he  decided 
likewise  to  remove  the  Ogre's  gold. 

"  Very  soon  the  Ogre  fell  asleep,  and 
Jack,  stealthily  walking  into  the  room, 
grabbed  the  bags  of  gold  and  the  hen, 
the  latter  in  the  excitement  of  the  abduc 
tion  laying  a  base  ball  on  the  floor  so 
loudly  that  the  Ogre  started  from  his 
couch  and  asked  who  was  there. 

"Jack  very  impolitely  ignored  the  re 
quest  for  information,  but  seized  the  harp 
and  ran  for  the  door.  The  harp  rose 
to  the  occasion  by  playing  a  double-time 
galop,  which  aroused  the  Ogre  to  a  reali 
zation  of  the  situation,  and  set  the  proper 
pace  for  Jack  to  keep  a  tolerably  comfort 
able  distance  between  him  and  his  pursuer. 
In  a  short  time  he  reached  the  summit  of 
the  stalk  and  hastily  climbed  down,  reach- 


OF  OLD   TALES.  71 

ing  his  mother's  garden  as  the  Ogre  started 
to  descend  in  pursuit. 

"  Ten  minutes  later  the  widow  on  walk 
ing    into    her   back    yard    discovered    the 


giant  lying  dead,  with  the  debris  of  the 
beanstalk  bestrewing  his  person. 

"  '  John/  she  said,  —  the  widow  always 
called  her  son  John  when  she  was  angry 
with  him,  —  '  who  killed  this  gentleman  in 
my  yard  and  ruined  the  Faba  tree? ' 

" '  Mother,'  returned  Jack,  '  I  can  tell  a 


72  NEW   W AC G INGS 

lie,  but   I   won't.     I   did   it  with   my  little 
hatchet.' 

"  '  Come  to  my  arms,  my  son  !  '  said  the 
happy  mother,  as  the  harp  struck  up, 
'  Truth  is  mighty  and  will  prevail  ; '  while 
the  hen,  in  honor  of  the  event,  laid  the 
foundations  for  a  new  cottage;  'I  had 
rather  lose  all  the  bean-trees  in  Massa 
chusetts  than  have  a  son  who  could  n't 
lie.' 

"  It  was  thus,"  said  the  Deputy  Vice- 
Vizier,  rising  from  his  seat,  "  that  Jack, 
with  the  aid  of  a  bushel  of  beans,  —  to 
drop  the  classics  for  a  moment,  —  avenged 
his  father,  made  his  mother  the  parent  of 
a  millionnaire,  and  slew  the  Ogre. 

"  Now  then,"  he  continued,  "  when  you 
can  decide  among  yourselves  what  kind 
of  beans  those  were,  then  will  I  tell  you 
whether  the  gentleman  your  friend  saw 
became  a  corpse  or  a  postmaster." 


OF  OLD    TALES. 


73 


Up  to  the  time  of  going  to  press,  the 
five  commissioners  from  the  State  of 
Michigan  had  not  decided. 


THE  DISTINGUISHED  DIPLOMAT 
PRESENTS  THE  APOSTLE  OF 
OBSCURITY. 


there  is  some  pencil- 
Inm  in  mora,  I  beg 
that  you  will  per 
mit  me  to  intro 
duce  to  you  very 
briefly  the  most 
misunderstood  man  of  the  age.  He  has 
no  one  but  himself  to  blame,  for 

Robert  B. 
Roivning  he 
Is  too  much  addicted  f  obscuritee. 

—  if  I  may  be  permitted  to  quote  what  I 
myself  might  have  said  in  the  old  Biglow 
days  had  I  felt  called  upon  to  do  so. 


NEW  WAGGINGS  OF  OLD  TALES.      ?$ 

"  A  prize  will  be  given  to  the  child  who 
after  listening  to  the  wagging  of  the  tale 
can  tell  what  tale  is  wagged." 

The  great  yet  obscure  poet  walked 
slowly  to  the  edge  of  the  platform,  and 
holding  his  manuscript  upside  down,  slow 
ly  delivered  the  following  parleying  with 
the  muse :  — 


HOMO   SENEX. 

[The  footnotes  have  been  kindly  supplied  by  the 
author  of  "  Sardello  at  Home,  or  the  Interlinear 
Browning."] 


HE  wagging  of  this 

tale  cst  tails, 
It  must  be  read  cum 

grano  sails ; * 

A  certain  man 2  whose 

cognomen  I 


76  NEW   WAGGINGS 

Am  not  quite  sure  that  he  had  any,  — 
Hie  vir  possessed  a  calf, 

And  that 's  one  half. 
Just  why  I  do  not  know,  — 

But  let  that  go. 


'T  is  said  he  led  it  ex  cathedra 3  — 
The  stalls  were  simple  polyhedra 4  — 
And  tied  it  fast,  yet  somewhat  slowly, 
Unto  the  fence  for  pleasure  solely 5 ; 
Jam  satis  cst —  the  wall 

And  calf  make  all. 
Such  queer  arithmetic 

Makes  me  sic* 


My  poetry  is  quite  confusing 

To  some  ;  to  me  it 's  most  amusing.7 

Rhyme  can't  be  parsed.8     No  English  Grammar 

Can  break  my  tropes  beneath  its  hammer. 

On  dit,  par  consequence, 

I  can't  make  sense  ; 9 


OF  OLD    TALES. 
Nathless  I  get  around 
The  British 


77 


1  "  It   must   be   read   cum  grano  sails"     The 
Poet's  meaning   in  this  line  is  evidently  that,  to 
catch  the  bird  of   thought   which  is   incarcerated 
in   the   cage   of  rhyme,    the   custom    of   old-time 
sportsmen  of  putting  salt  on  the  tail  must  be  ob 
served. 

2  The  words  following  "  A  certain  man  "  would 
seem  to  need  elucidation.     The  poet  is   undoubt 
edly  caught  in  a  grave  self-contradiction.     If  the 
hero  of  the  poem  were  "a  certain  man,"  that  is, 
a  man  about  whom  there  is   no  uncertainty,  the 
Poet  cannot  reasonably  aver  that  concerning  his 
cognomen   he   is    "  not   quite   sure."     A   possible 
explanation  of  the  difficulty  may  be  found  in  the 
dash  following  the  word  "any"  in  the  fifth  line 


/8  NEW  WAGGINGS 

of  the  stanza.  This  may  represent  a  hiatus,  a 
chasm  in  the  manuscript,  as  it  were,  which,  had 
it  been  filled  in,  would  have  made  the  line  as  plain 
as  the  boundless  prairie.  It  is  quite  evident  that 
the  exigencies  of  rhyme  compelled  the  Poet  to 
make  use  of  the  hiatus  ;  but  the  reader  cannot 
but  regret  that  the  author  did  not  see  fit  to  em 
ploy  an  additional  poetical  expedient  in  the  shape 
of  an  asterisk  and  footnote,  to  denote  what  it  was 
that  the  certain  man  lacked. 

8  This  extraordinary  use  of  ex  cathedra  is  sus 
ceptible  to  two  explanations.  If  used  in  its 
idiomatic  sense  of  ecclesiastical  authority,  the  ex 
pression  gives  some  insight  into  the  religious 
training  of  the  Homo  Senex.  A  calf,  to  be  led 
from  the  "high  seat,"  must  have  had  some  busi 
ness  there  in  the  first  place,  in  which  case  he  was 
undoubtedly  a  sacred  calf,  and  therefore  looked 
up  to  and  worshipped  by  the  common  herd.  It 
is  impossible,  however,  to  reconcile  the  idea  of 
the  old  man's  ownership  with  that  of  a  supremely 
powerful  calf,  —  that  is  to  say,  in  heathen  coun 
tries  it  is  impossible.  This  being  so,  we  are 
forced,  however  reluctantly,  to  give  up  the  notion 
that  the  animal  was  a  pillar  of  the  church,  and 
adopt  the  alternative  that  the  cathedra  referred  to 
was  nothing  more  than  the  ordinary  milking-stool 
of  farm  life.  The  commentator  is  well  aware  that 
there  are  grave  difficulties  in  the  way  of  supposing 
a  calf  to  be  led  away  from  a  milking-stool ;  but 


OF  OLD   TALES.  79 

the  reader  is  requested  to  remember  that  the  com 
mentator  is  doing  the  best  he  can  with  a  very 
forlorn  hope. 

4  To  figure  to  one's  self  a  barn  containing  stalls 
which  are  simple  polyhedra  is  a  perplexing  opera 
tion.  It  would  seem  natural  that  a  sacred  calf 
should  find  his  dwelling-place  in  a  polyhedronous 
stall;  but  we  have  already  effectively  disposed  of 
the  calf's  claims  to  be  regarded  as  above  the  ordi 
nary  run  of  heifers  ;  and  to  find  such  an  one  making 
his  home  in  a  "many-seated"  barn  is  surprising. 
The  word  "  polyhedra,"  derived  from  TTO^VS  and 
efyxi,  is  more  suggestive  of  the  theatre  than  the 
barn ;  yet  in  this  very  suggestion  of  something 
radically  its  opposite  we  find  a  plausible  explana 
tion  of  the  Poet's  words.  The  ancients  as  well  as 
the  moderns  have  devoted  their  barns  on  many  occa 
sions  to  the  histrionic  needs  of  strolling  players. 
The  term  "  barn-stormers  "  is  a  familiar  one  among 
the  patrons  of  the  rural  stage,  and  there  can  be  no 
reasonable  doubt  that  the  Poet  in  the  line  under 
discussion  touchingly  alludes  to  the  days  of  his 
youth,  when  he  attended  for  the  first  time  a  dra 
matic  performance  in  his  father's  stable,  doubtless 
deadheading  his  way  through  the  secret  flue  con 
necting  the  humble  manger  of  the  family  steed 
with  the  bins  of  provender  above.  Little  glimpses 
like  this  into  the  boyhood  days  of  one  who  is  now, 
one  might  almost  say,  a  Lar  or  Penate  in  every 
New  England  home,  are  surpassingly  beautiful, 


80  NEW   IV A GG INGS 

and  cannot  be  held  in  too  high  estimation  by  the 
favored  reader. 

5  It  may  be  asked,  what  is  "a  fence  for  pleasure 
solely"?     Were  the  Poet  an  American  boy,  we 
might  safely  reply  that   the   fence   surrounding  a 
base-ball  field,  chiefly  constructed  of  knot-holes,  is 
a  fence   for  pleasure  solely  ;  but  as   the   Poet  is 
not  an  American,  but  a  Briton  of  the  deepest  dye, 
we  must  confess  that  we  cannot  get  over  a  fence 
of  this   description,  and    must  permit    the   reader 
to  browse  through  the  field  of  speculation,  to  sur 
mount  the  difficulty  as  to  him  or  her  seemeth  best. 
5  The  Poet's  use  of  the  dead  languages  is  very 
confusing.     The  word  sic,  employed  here,  can  be 
construed    to   mean    that    the    Poet   is   unwell   or 
"feeling  only  so-so,"   to  adopt  a  familiar  idiom. 
Again,  it  may  be  that  the  Poet  recognizes  that  he 
is  addicted  to  confusion,  and  attributes  his  being 
sic,  or  thus,  to  the   peculiar  arithmetic   which  he 
finds   himself   compelled   to  work   into  his  poem. 
As  a  precedent  for  this  use  of  the  word  we  have 
the  line  Sic  semper  tyrannis,  which  when  trans 
lated  literally  means,  "  Tyrants  are  always  sickly," 
or,  '"T  was  ever  thus  with  tyrants," —referring  to 
the   condition   of   ill-health  in  which   the  original 
tyrant   found   himself  when   confronted   with    the 
person  who  made  the  remark. 

7  This  may  be  regarded  as  a  much  belated  ad 
mission  from  the  Poet  that  some  of  his  poetry 
is  ridiculous. 


OF  OLD    TALES.  8 1 

8  "  Parsed "  may  be  a  typographical  error  for 
passed.     Poets  frequently  write  phonetically,  and 
it  is  quite  well  known  that  since  the  Author  was 
taken    up    by   the    cultured   few   of  our    Modern 
Athens,  he  has  adopted  the  orthoepism  there  prev 
alent.     "  Rhymes   can't   be   passed "  is   doubtless 
what  the  poet  meant  to  write  ;  and  we  think  we 
here  detect  a  slight  rebuke  to  the  Chicago  journal 
which  upon  a  recent  occasion  rejected  one  of  the 
Poet's   odes,  writing   him   at   the  same  time  that 
his  work  was   very  funny,   that   he    showed  great 
promise,  and  that  he  only  needed  to  study  carefully 
such  works  as  "  Poems  of  Passion,"  by  Phoebe  J. 
Perkins,  of  Peoria,  Illinois,  "  Baled  Hay,"  by  Bill 
Nye,  and  Dr.  Watts's   Hymns,   to  fit  himself  for 
a  brilliant  literary  future. 

9  This  amounts  to  a  confession  that  the   Poet 
finds  American  ventures  unprofitable,  and  is  a  mute 
appeal  for  an  international  copyright  law. 

10  ''  Nathless  I  get  around  the  British  £  "  is  a 
line  which  has  greatly  puzzled  the  commentator. 
The    British    Sovereign   has,    up    to    this    writing 
shown  a  distinct  preference  for  another  poet,  one 
of  whose  effusions  appears  farther  along  in  these 
pages  ;  and  exactly  what  Mr.  Browning  can  mean 
by  asserting  that  he  gets  around  her  august  Maj 
esty  is   not  clear.      It  savors  strongly   of  a   vain 
and  empty  boast  which  is  strangely  unfamiliar  to 
readers   of   his   previous   writings-     An   additional 
peculiarity  to  be  noticed  is,  that  the  word  "Sover- 

6 


82     NEW  WAGGINGS  OF  OLD  TALES. 

eign"  does  not  rhyme  with  anything  that  has  gone 
before.  It  is  greatly  to  be  regretted  that  the  Poet 
has  seen  fit  to  mar  the  symmetry  of  an  otherwise 
exquisite  sample  of  his  work  by  so  inartistic  — 
and,  we  might  add,  immodest  —  a  climax. 


THE 

AFRICAN    REMINISCENCER 
TO   THE  FORE. 


Y  dear  friends,"  said 
the  Chairman,  "  it 
is  too  bad  that 
some  one  better 
fitted  for  the 
task  of  present 
ing  the  Great 
Eclectic  Historian  of  Africa  to  you  has 
not  been  chosen  to  preside  over  you  this 
evening.  My  regret  is  all  the  more  deep 
because  I  find  myself  unable  to  make 
any  strikingly  apt  remarks  concerning  the 
gentleman  I  am  about  to  introduce.  I 
have  never  read  his  most  celebrated  novel, 
'  Ben  She.'  I  have  not  even  dipped  into 


84  NEW   WAGGINGS 

'King  Sullivan's  Mines,'  as  I  believe  an 
other  well-known  and  favorably  received 
book  is  called.  You  must  remember  that 
our  African  brother  is  a  very  recent  addi 
tion  to  literature,  and  having  inadvertently 
started  on  a  perusal  of  '  The  Bostonians ' 
some  three  years  ago,  I  have  been  unable 
to  find  any  time  since  to  devote  to  other 
equally  valuable  and  more  contempora 
neous  literary  achievements. 

"  I  trust  that  my  friend  from  the  Desert 
will  pardon  this  humiliating  confession,  and 
accept  my  assurance  that  just  so  soon  as 
I  can  find  the  opportunity  I  shall  take 
great  pleasure  in  looking  through  such  of 
his  works  as  he  may  see  fit  to  send  me 
If  all  I  hear  of  him  be  true,  I  certainly 
concur  in  the  free  translation  of  Nihil  teti- 
git  quod  non  ornavit,  which  avers  that  he 
touched  the  Nile  but  to  adorn  it." 

The  Reminiscencer  was  obviously  much 


OF  OLD  .TALES,  85 

embarrassed  by  this  splendid  tribute  to  his 
genius,  for  it  was  only  after  much  persua 
sion  that  he  could  be  induced  to  come 
forward.  Finally  his  bashfulness  was  over 
come,  and  rising  from  his  chair  he  ad 
dressed  the  audience  as  follows :  — 

"  Ladies  and  gentlemen,  you  see  me  at 
a  great  disadvantage  this  evening.  I  am 
called  upon  to  relate  to  you  a  fairy  story, 
when  I  assure  you  I  never  heard  of  such 
a  thing  in  my  life  before.  Most  of  my 
days  have  been  spent  fighting  Boers  in 
Africa  and  writing  tales  in  England,  and 
like  that  of  the  Distinguished  Diplomat 
here,  my  reading  has  necessarily  been  lim 
ited.  Up  to  this  point  it  has  not  included 
anything  which  could  be  classed  as  a  fairy 
story. 

"  However,  I  will  do  my  best,  and  will 
tell  you  a  tale  which  was  related  to  me  by 


86  NEW   WAGGINGS 

a  Zulu  noble  who  was  my  valet  while  I 
was  a  member  of  the  British  Legation  in 
the  Transvaal.  If  it  seem  to  you  to  be  like 
anything  you  have  heard  before,  you  will 
please  not  attribute  it  to  any  plagiaristic 
intent  on  my  part,  but  rather  to  coinci 
dence  to  which  my  very  minute  reading 
has  rendered  me  extremely  susceptible. 
The  story  is  called 


RUMPELSLOPO- 
GAAS. 

NCE  upon  a  time 
there  lived  near 
the  forest  of  Ku- 
kinikaka,  in  that 
vast  district  of 

Africa  known  as  Nynngajakh,  at  the  base 
of  the  snow-capped  Mount  Kohinoor,  a 
poor  Masai  miller  who  had  one  very  beau- 


OF  OLD    TALES,  87 

tiful  daughter.  Her  complexion  was  of 
that  rich  inky  tint  which  at  once  betrays 
African  blood ;  her  hair,  dressed  in  the 
prevailing  style  of  three  round  woollen  balls 
placed  at  intervals  of  three  inches,  begin 
ning  directly  above  the  ear,  was  a  shade 
darker  than  her  cheek,  and  at  night  lent 
a  deeper  hue  to  the  pall  in  which  Nature 
enshrouded  the  land. 

In  her  own  tongue,  this  beautiful  maiden's 
name  was  Tzukamatzatatakimeniyoshene- 
lephtha  Twala  Thumbopa ;  !  but  by  her 
neighbors  and  friends  she  was  familiarly 
known  as  Her. 

This  condensation  of  her  baptismal  ap 
pellation  was  largely  due  to  the  climate  in 
which  Her  lived,  and  in  which  it  was  con 
sidered  unsafe  to  undergo  any  such  pro- 

1  It  is  very  evident  that  names  of  this  extensive 
nature  were  not  known  in  the  days  when  Shakspeare 
intimated  that  there  was  a  dearth  of  matter  in  an 
appellation. 


88  NEW   WAGGINGS 

tracted  effort  as  the  pronunciation  of  her 
name  involved  more  than  once  a  century. 
It  is  perhaps  not  generally  known  that  the 
heat  in  this  part  of  Africa  is  sometimes 
so  intense  that  it  warps  the  judgment  of 
the  natives.1  There  is  an  old  tradition  still 
preserved  among  them  that  upon  one  oc 
casion,  while  a  Masai  chief  was  holding 
friendly  converse  with  his  Zulu  cousin,  the 
thermometer  having  reached  an  altitude  of 
20,000  feet  above  the  sea-level,  there  was  a 
sudden  sizzle,  and  90%  of  the  Masai  evapo 
rated  and  the  remaining  10%  of  bones  and 
hair  were  shrivelled  out  of  existence.  An 
extraordinary  feature  of  this  occurrence 
was  that  a  gold  watch,  the  bequest  of  a 
missionary  to  the  Zulu  chief,  evaporated  at 

1  Tt  opens  up  nn  interesting  field  for  speculation,  to 
consider  whether  this  intense  heat  which  can  warp  the 
judgment  of  man  is  in  any  way  connected  with  the  ideas 
of  civilized  beings  concerning  the  temperature  which 
is  predicted  for  the  Day  of  Judgment. 


OF  OLD    TALES.  89 

the  same  time,  and  was  subsequently  dis 
covered  in  a  materialized  state  in  the 
wigwam  of  the  gentleman  who  had  been 
so  unceremoniously  blotted  out.  Consid 
ering  these  extraordinary  climatic  condi 
tions,  it  is  not  wonderful  that  anything  so 
frail  as  Her's  name  should  have  succumbed, 
and  that  the  young  lady  should  consent  to 
a  reduction  of  the  tax  upon  the  articula 
tion  of  her  friends. 

Her's  father  was  likewise  in  reduced  cir 
cumstances.  He  could  hardly  earn  enough 
biltong^  to  keep  himself  alive,  and  Her  had 

1  Biltong  is  a  species  of  food  much  affected  by  the 
upper  classes  of  the  Congo.  It  is  said  by  those  who 
have  eaten  it  and  lived,  to  be  very  similar  to  English 
sole-leather,  and  is  supposed  by  some  to  consist  of  such 
ingredients  as  gutta-percha,  ivory,  and  lava.  A  cargo 
submitted  to  -an  expert  analytical  chemist  by  a  firm  in 
terested  in  its  sale  in  this  country  discloses  the  fact  that 
it  is  harmless  and  nourishing,  and  may  be  left  in  the 
hands  of  the  young  and  the  ignorant  with  impunity.  The 
chemist's  opinion  cost  only  $50,  which  is  remarkable 
considering  the  praise  he  accords  to  canned  biltong, 
and  is  likely  to  inspire  confidence  in  its  merits. 


QO  NEW   WAGGINGS 

to  go  hungry  on  many  occasions  in  con 
sequence.  The  custom  of  the  country 
which  enables  millers  to  grow  their  own 
hats  on  their  own  heads  was  a  most  wel 
come  one  to  Thumbopa,  —  for  such  was  the 
miller  called,  —  and  Pier's  invariable  habit 
of  making  her  own  clothing  aided  materi 
ally  in  keeping  expenses  down.  It  is  true 
that  when  Her  wanted  a  new  dress,  all  she 
had  to  do  was  to  smile  in  a  new  way,  but 
it  was  none  the  less  a  virtue  in  the  maiden 
that  she  took  all  this  upon  herself.  Many 
of  her  friends  in  no  better  circumstances 
could  not  be  persuaded  to  do  it  even 
to  save  their  parents  from  the  debtors' 
prison. 

Having  so  good  a  daughter  was  very 
naturally  a  source  of  great  pride  to  the 
old  miller,  —  of  so  great  pride,  indeed, 
that  he  neglected  his  mill  to  brag  about 
her  accomplishments.  Among  other  ex- 


OF  OLD    TALES.  91 

traordinary  tales  he  told,  was  one  which 
attributed  to  Her  the  ability  to  turn  gold 
into  straw,  an  exaggeration  which  reached 
the  ears  of  the  Oing1  and  which  aroused 
in  his  breast  a  spirit  of  cupidity ;  for  you 
must  know  that  straw  in  Central  Africa 
is  a  great  rarity,  and  is  not  infrequently 
woven  into  crowns  for  the  local  monarchs. 

His  Majesty,  upon  hearing  of  this  won 
derful  accomplishment,  sent  for  Her,  and 
giving  her  ten  nuggets  of  gold,  com 
manded  her  to  make  him  two  bales  of 
straw  before  morning,  or  be  sacrificed  to 
a  small  stucco  god  which  formed  the  re 
ligious  element  in  the  royal  household. 

The  command  plunged  the  poor  girl 
into  the  deepest  distress.  She  had  only 
lived  twenty  thousand  years,  and  she  felt 
it  hard  that  she  should  have  to  die  before 

1  Qing.—Vide  "  The  Bull  Roarer,"  Custom  and  Myth, 
by  A.  G'Lang. 


92  NEW   WAGGINGS 

she  had  attained  the  years  of  discretion.1 
The  room  given  her  was  on  the  ground- 
floor  of  the  palace,  —  which,  after  the  man 
ner  of  African  palaces,  was  one  story  in 
height  counting  the  cellar,  —  and  was  stuffy 
and  hot.  In  despair  Her  took  off  the 
smile  she  had  worn  in  the  Qing's  presence, 
and  threw  herself  down  by  the  river's  brink 
to  think  over  her  past  life  and  bemoan  her 
fate.  It  was  a  beautiful  moonlight  night, 
and  floating  along  the  smooth  surface  of 
the  silent  river  were  to  be  seen  the  African 
lightning-bugs,  which  are  not  very  differ 
ent  from  the  bald  eagle  of  America,  and 
which,  when  they  flap  their  wings,  emit 
a  sound  as  of  a  clap  of  thunder,  and  flash 
forth  a  light  which  to  the  ordinary  eye  is 
blinding.  Altogether  it  was  a  beautiful 

1  The  election  laws  among  the  Masais  require  a  man 
to  be  fifteen  thousand  years  old  before  he  votes.  Masai 
women  are  supposed  to  reach  the  years  of  discretion  at 
twenty-one  thousand. 


OF  OLD    TALES. 


93 


sight,  —  this  silent  river  with  its  lightning- 
bugs. 

Suddenly  Her  was  awakened  from  her 
reverie  by  a  slight  rustling  of  the  bunches 
of  bananas  on  the  tree  before  her,  and  be 


fore  she  had  time  to  decide  whether  it  was 
the  wind  or  imagination,  she  was  struck  in 
the  neck  by  a  round  hairy  object  stuck 
on  the  end  of  a  poisoned  arrow,  and  which 
transpired  to  be  the  recently  decapitated 
head  of  a  dog.  Her  sprang  to  her  feet 


94  NEW  WAGGINGS 

with  an  exclamation  of  delight,  for  she 
knew  that  to  be  hit  by  such  an  object 
meant  that  friends  were  near.  It  is  one 
of  the  pleasing  customs  of  the  Masais  to 
revive  the  courage  of  their  friends  in 
trouble  by  this  means. 

Hurriedly  seizing  a  flat  piece  of  wood 
near  by,  she  scratched  the  following  lines 
upon  it :  — 

"  Old  Mother  Hubbard 
She  went  to  the  cupboard 
To  get  her  poor  dog  a  bone  ; 
But  when  she  got  there 
The  cupboard  was  bare, 
And  so  the  poor  dog  got  none."  l 

Whether  the  lines  were  original  with 
Her,  or  whether  she  jotted  them  down 
from  memory,  I  cannot  say.  She  had  a 
habit  of  writing  poetry  in  moments  of  in 
tense  excitement,  and  this  may  have  been 

1  Compare  this  poem  with  lines  in  Mother  Goose. 
The  similarity  is  remarkable. 


OF  OLD   TALES. 


95 


one  of  those  moments  for  her.     To   the 
ordinary  woman  it  would  be  quite  exciting 
to   be    struck    by  the    head    of  a   dog    at 
midnight;    and    it    is 
quite  likely  that  Her, 
however  extraor 
dinary  her  ad 
ventures  may       J 
have  been, 


possessed  all  the  failings  of  the  ordinary 
woman.  At  all  events,  when  she  had  fin 
ished,  she  read  aloud  what  she  had  writ 
ten,  and  as  the  last  echoes  of  her  rich 


96  NEW  WAGGINGS 

voice  died  away,  the  withered  figure  of 
an  old  man  crept  from  out  the  shadows  of 
the  banana-tree  and  stood  beside  her. 

It  was  a  trying  moment  for  the  girl.  To 
be  thus  intruded  upon  at  midnight  when 
all  was  silent  save  the  low  rumbling  roar 
of  the  lightning-bugs,  even  by  one  who 
bore  unmistakable  evidences  of  friendship, 
was  no  light  matter  for  Her,  especially  as 
the  moon  disappeared  behind  a  cloud  at 
this  moment.  She  was  too  terrified  to 
speak.  The  words  which  she  wished  to 
utter  froze  on  her  lips,  although  the  ther 
mometer  registered  106°  in  the  shade. 
The  man,  on  the  other  hand,  seemed  to 
wait  for  the  lady  to  begin  the  conversation. 
Thus  they  sat  until  pale  Luna's  silver  light 
again  came  forth  and  bathed  the  scene  in 
its  smiling  softness.  It  was  then  and  then 
only  that  Her  gave  a  little  shriek  of  dis 
may,  for  as  the  moon  reappeared  she 


OF  OLD    TALES.  97 

remembered  that  she  was  dressed  in  an 
exceedingly  neglige  style.  But  here  her 
self-possession  stood  her  in  good  stead, 
for  with  an  easy  grace  she  let  herself  down 
the  bank  into  the  river  until  her  head 
alone  remained  above  the  water.  Then 
she  looked  inquiringly  at  her  visitor  and 
motioned  to  him  to  be  seated  on  a  log  a 

o 

few  feet  away. 

"  Good-morrow  to  you,  lass,"  said  the 
stranger. 

•'  That  all  depends  on  how  you  look  at 
it,"  said  Her.  "  I  'm  afraid  it  will  be  a 
bad  one  for  me." 

"  Bad,  Tzukama—  "  began  the  stranger, 
inquiringly. 

"  Cut  it  short,"  interrupted  Her. 

"  Thanks,"  replied  the  stranger,  grate 
fully. 

"  Very  bad,"  sighed  the  girl ;  "  for 
Thumbopa,  my  parent,  has  informed  the 
7 


98  NEW   W AC G INGS 

Qing  that  I  can  turn  gold  into  straw,  and 
the  Qing  wants  to  put  his  capital  into  the 
enterprise,  or  sacrifice  me  to  Saint  Majo 
lica.  It  is  needless  to  say  that  the  Miller 
has  deviated  from  the  dam  of  truth  and 
has  got  me  in  a  hole  which  I  am  quite 
unable  to  pull  in  after  me.  I  can  throw 
a  rope  into  the  air  and  climb  up  it;  I 
can  make  a  biltong  short-cake  with  the 
next  girl ;  and  if  a  rhinocodile  should  bite 
the  wheel  out  of  the  mill  I  'm  the  girl  to 
fix  it;  but  as  for  turning  gold  into  straw 
I  'm  not  initr  l 

"  Too  bad,"  said  the  old  man,  "  but  it 
might  be  worse.  I  'vc  got  a  proposition 
to  make  that  may  help  you  out." 

"  Well,  please  to  hurry  up  and  make  it, 
because  the  crocodiles  are  biting  awfully 
to-night." 

1  Masai  for  inability  to  do  something  which  has  gone 
before. 


OF  OLD   TALES. 


99 


"  If  you  '11  marry  me,  I  '11  save  you." 
"  How  old  are  you?" 
"  Ten   thousand    and   three    next    Feb 
ruary."  l 

"The  idea  of  a  boy  like  you  wanting 


to  marry  !  It 's  absurd,  and  I  won't  do  it, 
Mr.  —  er —  by  the  way,  I  didn't  catch 
your  name." 

"  I  know  you  did  n't.  I  did  n't  throw 
it  in  your  direction.  However,  if  you 

1  If  the  stranger  told  the  truth  when  he  claimed 
to  be  ten  thousand  and  three  years  of  age,  it  would 
seem  as  if  some  official  contradiction  of  Methuselah's 
claim  to  be  the  oldest  man  ought  to  be  forthcoming. 
The  Antiquarian  Society  should  look  into  this  matter. 


100  NEW   WAGGINGS 

won't  marry  me,  will  you  give  me  a  lock 
of  your  hair  for  a  bell-pull  when  it  has 
grown  large  enough?  " 

"  I  may  lose  all  my  hair  by  that  time," 
pleaded   Her.     Her  hair   was   one  of  her 
strongest  points,  and  she  knew 
it.     She  also  knew  that  the  three 
knobs    on    the    summit    of    the 
cranium    were    de 
manded     by     Zulu 


etiquette,  and  she  did  not  intend  to  lose 
her  social  position  if  she  could  help  her 
self.  "  Besides,"  she  added,  "  I  never  deal 
in  futures." 

"Very  well,"  returned  the  old  man,  ris 
ing;  "if  you  don't  promise  me  the  knob, 
you  '11  be  dealing  with  a  very  warm  future 
about  this  time  to-morrow.  Give  me  what 


OF  OLD  TALES.:     :'.-:'iyi 

I  ask,  and  the  art  of  turning  gold  into 
straw  is  yours.  Deny  me  and  —  " 

"  I  promise  it,  I  promise  it !  "  cried  Her 
in  despair. 

"The  centre  knob?"  demanded  the 
stranger. 

"  Any  one  you  please;  but  you  are 
cruel  —  cruel  —  cru —  " 

There  is  no  knowing  how  long  Her 
would  have  cried  "  cruel,"  had  not  the  tide 
risen  at  this  moment.  The  Masai  tides 
are  very  rapid,  and  have  been  known  to 
rise  so  high  in  five  minutes  that  the  Qing 
has  been  compelled  to  adjourn  the  meet 
ing  of  his  cabinet  to  the  top  limbs  of  the 
banana-trees. 

The  stranger  was  evidently  deeply 
moved  by  Her's  distress,  for  he  said  that 
if  she  could  guess  his  name  within  the 
next  three  days  he  would  be  willing  to 
withdraw  his  claim  to  the  lock  of  hair. 


1 02  NE  W   WA  GOING S 

Then,  after  instructing  her  as  to  the  man 
ufacture  of  straw  from  gold,  and  saying 
Bibi,  which  is  Zulu  patois  for  Ait  revoir, 
he  disappeared  into  the  night. 

Her  was  greatly  relieved  when  the 
stranger  had  taken  his  departure.  As  she 
had  said,  the  crocodiles  were  unusually 
vicious  that  night,  and  to  make  matters 
worse,  the  tide  had  risen  above  the  unhappy 
girl's  mouth,  so  that  she  could  not  even 
thank  the  stranger  for  his  timely  succor. 

Of  course,  now  that  she  knew  how,  the 
process  of  turning  gold  into  straw  was 
comparatively  easy  work,  and  when  next 
morning  the  Qing  called  to  collect  his 
first  dividend,  he  was  so  pleased  with  the 
results  of  Her's  labors,  that  he  asked  her 
to  join  the  list  of  his  Qeens  l  as  No.  21 10, 
which  she  deemed  it  well  to  do,  seeing 

1  Qfen,  n. :  The  consort  of  the  Qing.  —  The  Masai 
Dictionary^  Unabridged. 


OF  OLD   TALES.  103 

that  his  Majesty  left  her  the  alternative 
of  being  fed  to  the  elephants. 

On  the  evening  of  the  second  day  after 
her  marriage,  while  the  Qing  was  out 
courting  a  young  Zulu  maiden  who  was 
said  to  be  able  to  make  a  very  superior 
paste  out  of  diamonds,  and  whom  he 
hoped  to  make  Mrs.  Qing  No.  2111, 
Her's  mysterious  benefactor  called  at  the 
palace  to  see  if  the  Qeen  knew  who  he 
was,  and  to  gloat  over  her  misery. 

Her,  in  the  mean  time,  had  had  all  the 
baptismal  records  of  the  continent  since 
the  Deluge  ransacked  for  names;  an  ex 
pedition  had  been  despatched  through  the 
subterranean  passage  to  the  Rose  of  Fire, 
near  Milosis,  to  get  such  names  as  the 
tourists  who  had  passed  through  had 
left  there;  the  names  and  business  ad 
dresses  of  all  the  Americans  who  have 
left  their  mark  on  the  pyramids  and  obe- 


.704,.  .  NEW.   WAGGINGS 

lisks  of  Egypt  were  written  down  in  five 
large  volumes ;  three  English  explorers, 
who  knew  the  way,  had  been  sent  to  take 
a  census  of  the  Mining  District  around 
Kekuanaland  ;  and  the  Transvaal  Circulat 
ing  Library  had  been  ordered  to  send  her 
Majesty  a  complete,  though  cheap,  set  of 
the  works  of  Mr.  Allan  Quatermain,  the 
names  of  whose  characters  were  supposed 
to  be  as  unique  as  anything  in  fiction. 
Having  digested  all  these  compilations, 
Her  felt  as  well  up  on  names,  Christian 
and  savage,  proper  and  improper,  as  if 
she  had  been  the  index  to  the  Records 
which  in  Presbyterian  circles  are  sup 
posed  to  exist  in  the  realms  beyond. 

"Ask  the  gentleman  to  trek1  into  the 
parlor,"  she  said  to  the  slave  who  an 
nounced  the  visitor.  Then,  fixing  her 

1  Trek,  i.  e.  to  tramp.  It  is  interesting  to  observe 
that  African  vagrants  are  known  as  treks. 


OF  OLD    TALES. 


105 


hair  coquettishly,  so 
as  to  make  her  tri 
umph  over  her  vis 
itor  all  the  harder 
for  him  to  bear, 
and  singing,  "  I 
Ve  got  Him 
on  the  List," 
she  descend 
ed  into  the 
parlor  by . 
means  of 
an  aerial 
ladder, 
the  in 
vention 
of  an  /<"/ 
African  juggler,  which  leaned  against  it 
self,  and  hung  suspended  in  the  air  three 
feet  from  the  floor,  so  as  not  to  injure 
the  carpet,  without  making  any  display  of 


106  NEW   WAGGINGS 

its  suspenders.  With  an  expression  of 
triumphant  joy  Her  greeted  her  guest  by 
every  name  she  could  think  of,  —  from 
Umbopa  down  to  Ruskin, —  to  every  one 
of  which,  to  her  intense  dismay,  he  denied 
all  claim. 

When  she  had  reached  the  end  of  her 
list,  and  he  still  remained  a  stranger  in  a 
foreign  land,  Her  swooned  away.  For  the 
first  time  in  her  life  she  looked  above  ten 
thousand  years  old.  The  stranger,  with  a 
heartless  smirk,  toyed  gently  with  the  knob 
on  which  his  heart  was  set,  and  saying, 
"  To-morrow  noon  will  I  return  for  thee," 
left  the  palace.  The  slaves  carried  the 
unhappy  woman  to  her  chamber  and  put 
her  to  bed. 

All  night  long  she  tossed  and  moaned, 
so  much  so  that  the  Qing  notified  her  that 
if  she  tossed  and  moaned  any  more  she 
would  be  used  for  bait  at  the  crocodile 


OF  OLD    TALES. 


107 


hunt  the  following  week.  This  gentle 
remonstrance  had  a  quieting  effect  upon 
the  unhappy  Qeen;  but  her  heart  was 
heavy,  and  the  tears  coursed  down  her 
cheeks,  when  she  thought  of  the  social 


degradation  to  which  she  was  doomed; 
for  with  a  single  lock  gone,  like  Samson  l 
she  lost  her  power. 

Slowly  passed  the  night.  Dawn  (to  be 
had  of  all  booksellers)  came  at  last,  but 
with  no  relief  for  Her.  At  noon  the  thun- 

1  I  got  this  idea  of  Samson  out  of  a  book  called  the 
"Bible,"  published  in  London,  1884.  —  H.  R.  H. 


108  NEW   WAGGINGS 

derbolt  must  fall.  No  breakfast  could  she 
eat,  and  as  a  crowning  misery,  her  hith 
erto  loving  spouse  asked  her  if  she  had 
not  made  some  mistake  in  the  marriage 
license  when  she  said  she  was  born  in 
18200  B.C.,  —  she  looked  eve'ry  hour  of 
twenty-four  thousand. 

After  the  mockery  of  the  morning 
meal  she  seated  herself  at  the  window 
to  watch  for  the  coming  of  her  perse 
cutor.  Her  temples  throbbed,  and  she 
nervously  fingered  the  hour-glass,  which 
ever  and  anon  she  would  turn,  and  with 
a  piece  of  chalk  keeping  tally  of  the  hours 
upon  the  back  of  a  slate-colored  slave  at 
her  side. 

As  the  last  sand  preceding  mid-day 
passed  into  the  lower  half  of  the  glass, 
she  perceived  the  caricature  of  humanity 
who  had  first  helped  and  was  now  en 
deavoring  to  destroy  her  walking  toward 


OF  OLD   TALES.  109 

the  palace.  He  was  evidently  very  ab 
sent-minded,  for  he  wore  an  old  silk  hat, 
which  he  had  purchased  at  the  Cape, 
around  his  left  ankle  instead  of  as  a 
bustle,  which  is  the  accepted  use  of  the 
beaver  in  Masai  circles.  He  was  not  so 
absent-minded,  however,  but  that  the  lock 
of  the  Qeen's  hair  was  still  the  goal  of 
his  ambition.  He  approached  slowly,  and 
after  some  parley  with  the  Kaffir  at  the 
gate  he  entered  the  palace.  A  few 
moments  later  there  was  a  noise  on  the 
ladder  without,  and  the  Kaffir,  sticking 
his  head  up  through  the  floor,  called 
out, — 

"A  gent  as  wishes  for  to  see  Qeen  2110 
is  below.  He  says  his  name  is  Rumpel- 
slopogaas." 

"  His  name  is  what?"  cried  the  Qeen 
in  astonishment,  and  with  a  little  hope 
springing  up  in  her  breast. 


1 10  NEW   WAGGINGS 

"  Rumpelslopogaas,"  was  the  reply. 

As  before,  Her  dressed  her  hair  with 
unusual  care,  and  arranged  her  smile  as 
became  her  qeenly  station.  As  before, 
she  descended  the  aerial  ladder  to  the 
audience  chamber.  There  was  that  in  her 
eyes  which  boded  ill  for  her  guest  as  she 
strode  past  him  and,  mounting  the  throne, 
haughtily  inquired  :  "  Well,  Rumpelslopo 
gaas,  what  do  you  want?" 

The  little  man  nearly  fainted  with  terror 
and  surprise :  she  had  the  name. 

"  Rumpelvvhatdyersay  ?  "  he  screeched. 

"Slopogaas,  Rumpel,"  said  the  Oeen, 
airily. 

"  Spell  it!  "  cried  the  visitor,  beside  him 
self  with  rage. 

"That's  not  in  the  contract  Saas,  old 
man,"  retorted  the  Qeen  with  dignity,  as 
she  touched  an  electric  button  on  the 


OF  OLD   TALES. 


Ill 


arm   of  the   throne,   and   so   shocked    her 
suest  that  he  forever  after  eschewed  her 

o 

acquaintance. 

"Good-by,    Rumpel,"    she    cried    after 
him  as  he  hobbled  away,  tears  of  rage  and 


mortification  streaming  down  his  withered 
cheek.  "  Next  time  you  come,  bring  what 
you  call  your  mind  with  you,  and  don't 
send  up  your  name." 

And  the    Qeen   kissed  her  husband  so 
sweetly  when  he  returned  home  from  the 


,VA7F   ll'AGGLVGS  OF  OLD  TALES. 


missionary    hunt    that    evening,    that    he 
broke  off  the  ten  engagements  he  had  con- 


tracted      during 

the      afternoon, 

and   fed    all    his 

wives    except 

Tzukamatzatata- 

kimeniyoshenel- 

ephtha     to    the 

elephants,  and  the  two  lived  happily  ever 

after. 


THE  DISTINGUISHED   DIPLOMAT 
WAXETH   ELOQUENT. 


,OW,  my  dear  chil 
dren,"  said  the  Dis 
tinguished  Diplomat, 
"  I  want  you  to  pay 
the  greatest  attention 
to  what  is  to  follow. 

My  good  friend  who  is  about  to  address 
you  is  a  very  great  singer ;  not,  I  beg  you 
to  believe,  in  the  sense  that  a  prima  donna 
is  a  great  singer,  for  no  letter  in  a  known 
alphabet  could  be  set  as  a  limit  to  the 
height  of  his  notes— and  I  may  parenthet 
ically  remark,  by  way  of  encouragement 
to  such  young  poets  as  may  be  in  this 
audience,  that  he  has  frequently  soared  as 
8 


114  .     NEW   WAGGINGS 

high  as  a  five-pound  note  while  in  the 
service  of  my  good  friend  the  Empress 
of  India.  For  many  years  he  sang  the 
praises  of  his  noble  land,  —  a  land  which 
will  always  be  a  terra  firma  in  the  affec 
tions  of  your  humble  servant,  —  a  land 
whose  greatness  is  largely  due  to  the 
good  fortune  it  had  laudari  a  viro  lau 
dato,  and  who  has  since  been  made  a 
Laud  on  account  of  it. 

"  During  my  ministry  at  the  Court  of 
St.  James,  I  remember  seeing  him  often 
times  sitting  in  the  Poet's  corner  writing 
verses  at  the  command  of  Her  Most  Gra 
cious  Majesty  Queen  Victoria.  Always 
ready,  nnnquam  non  paratus,  whatever  his 
subject;  a  living  paradox,  Baron  yet  fer 
tile,  Lord  yet  subject,  Peer  yet  Poet,  in 
the  seedtime  yet  budding  still,  we  shall 
now  have  the  pleasure  of  listening  to  the 
pearls  of  poesie  as  they  drop  from  the 


OF  OLD    TALES. 


lips  of  this  great  Oyster  of  song,  —  if  my 
noble  friend  will  pardon  my  carrying  the 
metaphor  to  its  logical  conclusion." 

After  a  salvo  of  applause  the  Poet-Peer 
wrapped  his  robes  about  him,  removed 
the  coronet  from  his  brow,  and  with  a 
majestic  tread  walked  to  the  footlights 
and  sonorously  delivered  the  following 
lines :  — 

CINDERELLA. 

^  HILDREN,    leave 
me  here  a  little ; 
I,  who  am   no 
longer  young, 
Find    it    difficult 
to  put  my  mus 
ings  in  a  mod 
ern  tongue. 

'T  is  some  threescore  years  since  first  I  twanged 

the  harp  in  Locksley  Hall, 
And  it 's  fortunate  for  you,  dears,  that  I  get  around 

at  all. 


Il6  NEW  WAGGINGS 

I  am  not  so  good  of  hearing,  and  my  eyes  are 

not  so  sharp 
As  they  were  when  England  echoed  every  tinkle 

of  my  harp. 

But  my  voice  is  still  the  voice  that  once  evoked 

a  poet's  fame, 
And  if  I  'm  a  trifle  senile  I  shall  get  there  just 

the  same. 

Time  has  streaked  with  silver  whiteness  all  my 

wealth  of  raven  hair  ; 
Time  is  money,  —  specie  payment,  —  and  it  finds 

resumption  there. 

Yet  for  every  hair  of  silver,  in  my  heart  there  is  a 

rhyme, 
And  I  '11  string  a  few  together  if  you  '11  only  give 

me  time. 

I  will  loop  them  all  together,  I  will  string  them  in 

a  chain 
For  a  garland,  little  children;    listen  well  and 

I  '11  explain,  — 


OF  OLD    TALES-  1 1/ 

Listen  well  unto  the  story  which  the  Laureate 

shall  sing, 
Full  of  love  as  is  the  trysting  of  two  bluebirds  in 

the  Spring. 

In  the  Spring  a  little  madder  tints  the  temper  of 

the  rose  ; 
In  the  Spring  a  young  man's  fondness   is   for 

anything  but  prose ; 

In  the  Spring  a  maiden's  bonnet  shows  the  iris 

of  the  wren ; 
In  the  Spring  the  budding  poet  is  addicted  to 

the  pen. 

So  I,  too,  in  life's  sweet   springtime,  when  the 

Idyls  all  were  done, 
Wrote  this  fairy-tale  so  famous,  just  for  exercise 

and  fun. 

Then  her  cheek  was  round  and  rosy  as  should 

be  in  any  case, 
And  her  conversation  seemed  to  me  the  height 

of  verbal  grace. 


n8 


NEW   WAGGINGS 


And  I  said,  "My  Cin 
derella,  on  the  rosary 
of  truth, 

Backward  tell  the  beads, 
that  I  may  learn  the 
story  of  your  youth." 

On  her  cheek  the  blushes 
hinted  of  the  rose's 
pinky  leaf, 

In  her  eye  the  moisture 
gathered  in  the  storm- 
cloud  of  her  grief; 

And  she  turned  northeast 
by    north,    and    in    a 
most  dramatic  style 
Struck  the  keynote  of  her  sorrow  and  the  sun 
shine  of  her  smile, 

Saying,  "  I  have  laved  the  linen  for  a  family  of 

three ;  " 
Saying,  "  That  was  long  ago,  but  now  they  get 

no  more  of  me." 


OF  OLD    TALES.  119 

Here  she  took  a  glass  of  water  in  her  jewel- 
fingered  fist ; 

Every  second  as  she  swallowed  irrevocably  was 
missed. 

Then,  refreshed,  proceeded  slowly,  and  with  very 

great  detail, 
To  repeat  the  little  story  of  the  slipper  small  and 

frail. 

You  '11  excuse  me  if  I  tell  it  in  my  own  peculiar 

way, 
For  her  grammar  had  the  errors  of  the  grammars 

of  her  day. 

Now  I  think  as  all  the  points  of  the  defence  are 

handed  in, 
It  is  time  that  I  the  counsel  for  the  plaintiff  should 

begin. 

Cinderella  had  two  sisters,  —  the  relationship 
was  such 

That  they  weren't  disposed  to  congregate  to 
gether  very  much. 


120 


NEW   W AC G INGS 


History  records  precisely,  and 

the  little  lass  avers, 
That  her  father  was  their 

father,  but  their  mother 

was  n't  hers. 

Jealousy  the  seeds  of 
Hatred  sowed 


in  Cinder 
ella's  home ; 

When  her  sisters  brushed  her  hair  they  never 
failed  to  yank  the  comb. 


OF  OLD    TALES.  121 

Cinderella's  beauty  brought  her  bitter  blossom 
ings  of  Hate, 

And  her  goings  were  restricted  by  the  kitchen 
and  the  gate. 

She  was  slave  to  their  siestas  when  the  dinner 

hour  was  o'er ; 
She  must  wash  the  china  dishes,  she  must  scrub 

the  kitchen  floor ; 

She  must  shovel  coal,  and  Monday  do  the  wash 
ing  in  the  morn ; 

She  must  wear  a  constant  smile  that  shall  but 
sharpen  up  their  scorn  ; 

She  must  sleep  up  in  the  garret,  say  her  prayers 

a  prey  to  rats, 
And  avoid  a  chance  of  comfort  on  a  bedstead 

minus  slats. 

They  would  call  her  naughty  names  and  do  their 

best  to  make  her  say 
Something  wrong  to  give  their  mother's  muscle 

exercise  that  day. 


122  NEW   \VAGG INGS 

But  her  feelings,  lignum-vitae,  though  they  suf 
fered,  she  controlled, 

And  the  silver  of  their  soeeches  she  returned  with 
silence,  gold. 

Now  it  chanced  a  handsome  Prince  had  sent 

some  invitations  out 
For  a  german,  which  excited  all  the  neighborhood 

about. 

To  this  ball  the  hateful  sisters  of  dear  Cinderella 

went, 
Happy  in  their  miser  hearts,  and  in  her  pain  and 

discontent. 

And  they  taunted  her  when  going,  saying,  "  Don't 

you  wish  that  you 
Were  a  lady  like  your  sisters,  and  with  them  were 

going  too  ?  " 

"Mock  me  not,"  quoth  Cinderella;  "life  has 
other  joys  for  me. 

T  shall  keep  myself  from  mischief  darning  stock 
ings  after  tea." 


OF  OLD    TALES. 


123 


Scarcely  had  their  figures  van 
ished  ere  beside  the  chim 
ney-breast 

Came    the   sound   as    of  a 
breathless  and  a  much- 
belated  guest ; 

And  a  voice  of 
strange  falsetto 
smote  the  unof 
fending  air ; 

And  it  murmured, 
"  Cinderella, 
Cinderella,  are 
you  there?" 

So   excited   was 
the  maiden  in 
her   dark,    de 
serted  home, 

That  she  spoke  before  she  knew  it,  and  articu 
lated,  "  Gnome  ! " 

"It  is  I,  the  same,"  the •  stranger  said,  assuming 
mortal  guise, 


124 


NEW   WAGGINGS 


"  T  is  thy  god- 
greetest  standing 
thine  eyes. 


"  Hist  thee, 
Know  ye 
the  hour 

Hie  thee 


mother  thou 
here  before 


Cinderella ! 
that  't  is  now 
of  nine ; 
straight  into  the 
garden,  —  snatch 
a  pumpkin  off  the 
vine." 

With   her    wondrous 
wand  the  stranger 
touched  the 
sympathetic  gourd  : 
Lo  !   it   changed  into 
a  carriage  like  aris 
tocrats  afford. 


"  Hist  thee,  Cinderella  !  Hither  bring  the  mouse 
trap  and  the  mice, 

And  the  latter  shall  be  neatly  metamorphosed  in 
a  trice." 


.OF  OLD   TALES. 


125 


With  her  wondrous  wand  the  stranger  touched 

the  left,  anon  the  right ; 
Lo  !   they  changed  into  four   horses,  —  two  of 

black  and  two  of  white. 

"  Hist  thee,  Cinderella  !     Hie  thee  to  the  garret 

dark  and  dim ; 
Fetch  me  here  a  roving  rodent,  for  I  have   a 

need  of  him  !  " 


With  her  wondrous  wand  she  touched  him,  saying 

something  very  weird  : 
Lo  !  he  changed  into  a  coachman  with  a  uniform 

and  beard. 


126 


NEW   WAGGINGS 


Then  to  Cinderella  spake  she  in  a  language  quaint 

and  queer : 
Lo  !  she  found  herself  in  satins,  with  a  diamond 

in  each  ear. 

In  a  wink  her  graceful  figure  was  arrayed  in  fine 
brocade, 

And  she  noticed 
that  the  boxes  all 
were  C.  O.  D., 
and  paid. 

But  of  all  the  trinkets 
pretty  which  so 
pleased  the  little 
lass 


Was  a  pair  of  dainty  slippers  numbered  one  and 
made  of  glass. 

"  Hist  thee,  Cinderella  !     Drive  ye  to  the  palace 
of  the  King, 


OF  OLD    TALES. 


127 


But  be  sure  that  you 
're  at  home  before 
the  midnight  hour 
shall  ring." 


Then  the  Gnome  went  up  the  chimney  whence 

she  came  a  moment  since, 
And  dear  Cinderella  hastened  to  the  german  and 

the  Prince. 


128  XEW   IVAGGINGS 


All    the    noble   lords    and  ladies    paused    and 

courtesied  to  her 
As  she   swept  the  polished  marbles,  where   her 

scornful  sisters  were. 


And    the   Prince   her   "Dancing   Order"   quite 

monopolized,  and  she 
Was  the  picture  of  his  fancy,  it  was  plain  enough 

to  see. 


OF  OLD    TALES. 


129 


And  he  pledged  her  in  the  rarest  and  the  most 

expensive  wines, 
Till  his  eyes  were  traitors  to  him,  and  all  zigzag 

were  his  lines. 


So  she  triumphed  at   the   german   over  all  the 

guests,  until 
It  was  rumored  that  her  sisters  found  the  evening 

very  chill. 

9 


130  NEW   WAGGIXGS 

Yet  I  doubt  not  through  the  ages  one  pervading 

purpose  runs, 
And  the  eyes  of  girls  are  dazzled  by  the  brilliance 

of  the  sons. 

Oh,  the  evening  was  so  pleasant,  and  the  ices  were 
so  good, 

It  was  hard  for  her  to  leave  them  as  she  prom 
ised  that  she  would. 

So  she  tarried,  and  the  Prince  began  his  pastoral 

of  love, 
And  she  quite  forgot  the  midnight  till  the  clock 

struck  quarter  of. 

Up  she  jumped,  and  from  the  palace  in  a  storm 

of  girlish  fear 
Scorned  decorum,  rushing  onward  like  a  hunted, 

frightened  deer. 

And  she  never  slacked  her  speed  until  she  reached 

the  house,  and  there 
When  she  added  up  her  slippers  found  she  had 

but  half  a  pair. 


OF  OLD    TALES.  131 

Sleep  for  her  was  very  broken.  Things  for  her 
were  in  a  fix ; 

And  a  worried  conscience  called  her  in  the  morn 
ing  long  ere  six. 


Hark  !  the  King's  policemen  shouting  in  the  mid 
dle  of  the  street ; 

They  are  crying,  "  Cinderella,  what 's  the  measure 
of  your  feet?" 


They  had  tried  to  fit  that  slipper  for  a  dreary, 

dreary  while, 
And  the  feet  that  they  had  measured  were  enough 

to  make  a  mile. 


132  NEW   WAGGINGS 

But  when  Cinderella  took  it  and  with  great  as 
surance  put 

The  extraordinary  slipper  on  her  pretty  little 
foot, 

They  exclaimed,  "Behold  a  Princess  !  "  for  the 

Prince  had  made  an  oath 
That  this  slipper  was  so  precious  he  was  bound 

to  have  them  both. 

"And  the  lady  who  can  wear  them,"  quoth  the 

Prince,  "  upon  my  life, 
I  will  marry  ere  the  sundown,  and  to-day  shall 

be  my  wife." 

So  the  Prince  and  Cinderella  wedded  on  the  sixth 

of  May, 
And  lived  happily  together,  so  the  scornful  sisters 

say. 

And  the  sisters  begged  her  pardon,  and  she  did 

the  handsome  thing, 
And  secured  for  them  positions  as  domestics  for 

the  King. 


OF  OLD    TALES. 


133 


Howsoever  these  things  be,  a  long  farewell,  fare 
well  to  all ; 

Sixty  years  is  quite  an  absence,  —  I  must  on  to 
Locksley  Hall. 

Comes  a  look  within  your  faces  like  a  diamond  in 

the  rough, 
And  it  leads  me  to  imagine  that  you  all  have  had 

enough. 

So  I  bid  you  all  good-evening,  • —  and  it  has  been 

good,  I  know ; 
Time  is  growing  quite  impatient,  roaring  me-ward, 

and  I  go. 


THE 

GREAT     ROMANCER     IS      FIT 
TINGLY    INTRODUCED. 


Y  dear  children,"  said 
the  Chairman,  "you 
all  know  that  ex 
quisite  line  from  a 
literature  which, 
though    written 
in    a    language 

long  called  dead,  is  yet  undying,  —  Finis 
coronat  opus. 

"  Wisely  has  the  Great  Romancer  qui 
exegit  monnmcntiim  aere  perennius  been 
asked  to  preside  over  the  end  which 
crowns  the  work  ;  and  the  distinguished 
gentleman  who  sat  at  the  other  end  must 


NEW  IVAGGINGS  OF  OLD  TALES.     135 

not  think  that  I  am  making  invidious 
comparisons,  or  saying  aught  to  hurt  his 
feelings,  when  I  assert  that  it  is  at  this 
end  that  the  coronation  takes  place.  He 
said  an  infinitely  harder  thing  of  himself 
when  he  told  the  world  that  all  the  sto 
ries  have  been  told,  apparently  forgetting 
that  he  still  remained  to  idealize  the  real 
for  us,  while  the  Great  Romancer,  whom 
we  are  now  to  hear,  had  just  begun  to 
realize  the  ideal. 

"  My  romantic  friend  will  superintend 
the  oscillation  of  the  narrative  of  Beauty 
and  the  Beast,  —  a  story  which  from  the 
days  of  my  youth  I  have  regarded  as  fa 
cile  princeps  in  fairy  literature.  It  is  a 
story  which  — "  here  the  Distinguished 
Diplomat  became  embarrassed.  He  had 
lost  the  manuscripts  pertaining  to  the 
whichness  of  the  story ;  and  after  a  mo 
ment's  hesitation  he  cleared  his  throat  and 


136  NEW  WAGGINGS 

added,  "  But  I  trespass  on  your  time,  and 
taking  a  hint  from  the  immortal  Spanish 
bard,  who  sang 

Hablen  cartas 

y  callen  barbas,  — 

'  Let  writings  speak,  and  beards  be  silent,' 
-  I  will  ask  our  modern  Pacha  of  many 
tales  to  lead  us  into  the  twilight  that  sur 
rounds  the  borderland  of  old  Romance." 

The  readings  were  then  brought  to  a 
close  by  the  Great  Romancer,  whose  man 
uscript  ran  as  follows  :  — 


OF  OLD  TALES. 


137 


THE  STRANGE  CASE  OF  BEAUTY  AND 
THE  BEAST. 

I. 

THE    INCIDENT    OF   THE    ROSE. 

R.  TUTTERSON  the  mer 
chant  was  a  man  of 
a  rugged  countenance 
that  was  never  lighted 
by  a  smile,  unfortunate 
in  business,  lengthy, 
lank,  and  yet  lovable 
as  the  possessor  of  a 

beautiful  daughter.  When  everything  went 
well  with  him,  there  was  something  about 
him  that  inspired  confidence  which  even 
his  fondness  for  himself  could  not  over 
come;  but  when  angry,  Mr.  Tutterson, 


138  NEW   WAGGINGS 

without  making  any  perceptible  effort, 
could  be  as  mad  as  the  next  man. 

The  chief  pleasure  which  Mr.  Tutterson 
derived  from  life,  independent  of  the  olive 
branch  which  adorned  his  household, 
came  from  a  habit  of  rambling  through 
the  streets  on  Sunday  afternoons,  pluck 
ing  flowers  from  the  miniature  parks,  and 
wishing  he  knew  of  some  island  wherein 
there  lay  hidden  the  fabulous  treasures 
of  long-forgotten  pirates. 

It  chanced  in  one  of  his  Sunday  after 
noon  rambles  that  his  way  led  him  down 
a  by-street  in  an  almost  uninhabited  quar 
ter  of  London.  The  street  was  small,  and 
on  either  side  were  the  gardens  of  the 
occupants  of  the  one  or  two  villas  which 
had  been  erected  in  the  neighborhood. 
Within  the  largest  of  these  gardens  Mr. 
Tutterson  perceived  a  bush  on  which  were 
growing  several  magnificent  specimens  of 


OF  OLD    TALES.  139 

the  cabbage-rose.  Beyond  the  bush  was 
a  sinister-looking  house  in  whose  windows 
the  shades  were  pulled  tightly  down.  Mr. 
Tutterson  did  not  perceive  that  beneath 
one  of  the  shades  there  peered  a  pair  of 
the  most  malignant-looking  eyes  conceiv 
able.  Had  he  done  so,  he  never  would 
have  ventured  to  open  the  gate  stealthily 
and  walk  on  tiptoe  to  where  the  roses 
were  growing. 

He  was  a  prudent  man,  was  Mr.  Tutter 
son,  and  he, would  much  rather  have  gone 
to  a  florist  and  purchased  the  flowers 
which  he  had  promised  to  take  to  his 
daughter,  than  purloin  the  blossoms  of 
others  when  their  owner  was  around  to 
see  him  do  it. 

It  was  growing  dark  rapidly  as  Mr. 
Tutterson  drew  near  the  bush.  It  may 
have  been  for  this  reason  that  he  did  not 
see  the  knob  of  the  grim-looking  door 


140  NEW   WAGGINGS 

turn  slowly  as  he  reached  out  to  pick  the 
largest  flower  from  its  stem.  In  another 
instant  the  rose  wras  picked,  and  Mr. 
Tutterson  became  dimly  conscious  that 
he  had  been  struck  by  an  avalanche  or 
some  such  overwhelming  mass.  As  he 
said  when  in  after  years  he  related  the 
occurrence  to  his  grandchildren,  he  felt  as 
if  the  sinister-looking  mansion  before  him 
had  fallen  upon  him.  Always  direct  in 
his  speech,  he  cried  out,  "  Help  !  Help  !  " 

Then  to  his  terror  he  saw  Before  him  a 
form  so  utterly  horrible  and  depraved  in 
appearance  as  to  surpass  belief.  It  was 
not  the  house  that  had  fallen  upon  Mr. 
Tutterson ;  it  was  the  genius  of  the  house, 
the  owner  of  the  roses,  and  the  essentially 
sinful-looking  being  which  he  saw  before 
him  that  had  dropped  into  his  life,  whence 
he  knew  not. 

Again  Mr.  Tutterson  cried,  "  Help !  " 


OF  OLD    TALES.  14! 

"  Help  !  "  retorted  the  fiendish  proprietor 
with  a  satanic  smile.  "  What  do  you  want 
help  for?  Seems  to  me  you're  able  to 
help  yourself!  "  pointing  to  the  rose  which 


Mr.  Tutterson  still  held  in  his  nerveless 
grasp. 

"What's  the  good  of  falling  on  a  man 
from  the  third-story  window  of  a  sinister- 
looking  building  just  because  of  a  cabbage- 
rose  !  "  asked  Mr.  Tutterson,  rubbing  the 
back  of  his  neck. 

"  I     did  n't     fall    from     the     third-story 


142  NEW  WAGGINGS 

window;  I  jumped  from  the  roof  of  the 
veranda.  It  is  a  regular  Sunday  after 
noon  pastime  of  mine,  and  if  you  were  in 
the  way  it  was  your  own  fault.  I  did  n't 
ask  you  to  cabbage  my  roses." 

"  Let  me  go !  "  cried  Mr.  Tutterson, 
angrily. 

"  I  will  not  only  let  you  go,  but  I  will 
assist  you  in  the  movement,"  retorted  the 
Beast;  for  that  the  fiend  was  a  beast 
Mr.  Tutterson  was  convinced.  True  to  his 
word  was  Mr.  Tutterson's  new  acquaint 
ance;  and  when  next  the  merchant  had 
recovered  his  scattered  faculties,  he  was 
on  the  other  side  of  the  street,  while  about 
him  played  the  shadows  of  the  sinister- 
looking  building  with  the  drawn  blinds, 
bent  but  not  broken,  the  cabbage-rose 
that  he  had  plucked  still  adorning  his  but 
tonhole,  where  he  had  placed  it  during  his 
parley  with  the  Beast. 


OF  OLD   TALES.  143 

As  for  the  latter,  he  had  disappeared. 


II. 


MR.   TUTTERSON'S   DECISION. 

THAT  evening  Mr.  Tutterson  came  home 
in  sombre  spirits,  and  ate  his  dinner  with 
out  seating  himself  at  table.  It  was  his 
custom  of  a  Sunday,  when  this  meal  was 
over,  to  sit  by  the  fire  until  twelve,  and 


144  NEW  WAGGINGS 

then  go  soberly  and  gratefully  to  bed. 
On  this  night,  however,  he  felt  as  if  he 
had  had  all  the  fire  he  could  stand  for 
one  day,  and  could  not  find  it  compatible 
with  the  remedies  he  took  to  ameliorate 
his  sufferings,  to  go  to  bed  quite  so  so 
berly  as  usual.  Before  retiring  he  called 
his  daughter  to  him  and  related  the  inci 
dent  of  the  rose  to  her,  taking  the  flower 
from  his  buttonhole  and  twirling  it  ner 
vously  while  he  spoke. 

Beauty — as  Mr.  Tutterscn  called  his 
daughter  —  was  very  indignant  at  the 
treatment  her  father  had  received,  and 
wished  to  take  the  rose  back,  "  before  an 
other  hour  had  rung  out  from  the  minster 
on  the  hill."  Of  this,  Mr.  Tuttcrson  would 
not  hear,  saying  that  he  would  send  the 
Beast  a  check  for  ten  shillings  the  next 
morning  to  pay  for  the  rose,  and  would 
then  sue  him  for  ten  pounds'  damages  to 


OF  OLD    TALES.  145 

his  feelings  as  soon  as  he  could  get  around 
again. 

Mr.  Tutterson  then  wearily  sought  his 
couch,  and,  as  befitted  his  tired  state,  slept 
soundly  until  long  after  the  birds  began 
their  morning  carol  in  the  trees. 

The  next  morning,  in  accordance  with 
a  settled  plan,  Beauty  set  off  to  carry  the 
ten  shillings  to  the  Beast,  and  to  serve  a 
summons  of  complaint  upon  him  for  as 
sault  and  battery. 

III. 

THE  TUTTERSON   ELOPEMENT. 

AFTER  his  daughter  had  gone  out,  Mr. 
Tutterson  lay  wearily  down  upon  his  bed 
and  nursed  his  wounded  vanity  and  his 
wrath.  Never  before  had  he  been  so 
treated.  How  disproportionate  to  the 
value  of  the  rose  was  the  chastisement 

10 


146  NEW   WAGGINGS 

he  had  received  at  the  hands  of  the  Beast ! 
Was  ten  pounds  sufficient  compensation  for 
the  loss  of  self-respect  to  which  being 
thrown  bodily  across  the  public  highway 
subjected  a  man,  to  say  nothing  of  the 
assaulting  and  battering  he  had  received 
before  he  crossed  the  highway? 

From  his  soul  Mr.  Tutterson  wished  he 
had  instituted  suit  for  £20. 

"  If  I  could  collect  a  shilling  on  each 
pound  I  received  from  that  depraved  in 
habitant  of  the  sinister-looking  building, 
I  'd  get  £40,"  he  whispered  sadly  to  his 
dog  which  lay  whining  at  his  side. 

Musing  thus,  Mr.  Tutterson  sat  until  the 
luncheon-hour,  when  his  appetite  warned 
him  of  the  flight  of  time.  His  daughter 
had  not  returned,  and  Mr.  Tutterson  began 
to  grow  anxious. 

"The  Beast  surely  would  not  treat  a 
lady  as  he  treated  me,"  he  thought ;  "  still, 


OF  OLD    7 "ALES.  147 

a  Beast  who  would  treat  any  one  as  he 
treated  me  on  such  short  acquaintance 
would  do  anything !  " 

As  the  morning  went,  so  passed  the  after 
noon  ;  still,  Beauty  did  not  return. 

The  shadows  of  night  crept  across  the 
threshold,  and  Mr.  Tutterson  began  to 
lose  his  temper.  He  was  growing  very 
hungry,  and  as  his  daughter  combined 
with  her  beauties  of  person  the  duties 
of  cook,  Mr.  Tutterson  did  not  see  ex 
actly  where  his  evening  meal  was  coming 
from. 

The  moaning  cry  of  the  newsboy  could 
be  heard  far  down  the  street,  but  save 
this  all  was  silent.  Alone  the  merchant 
sat,  starting  nervously  betimes  when  he 
thought  he  heard  a  footstep  upon  the 
porch.  The  ticking  of  the  clock  upon 
the  mantel  grew  momentarily  more  pro 
nounced,  and  every  swing  of  the  pendu- 


148  NEW   WAGGINGS 

lum  but  added  to  the  dyspeptic  overflow 
which  was  gradually  welling  up  in  Mr. 
Tutterson's  breast.  Instead  of  "  tick-tock, 
tick-tock,"  it  seemed  to  say,  "  Tut-terson, 
Tut-terson,  what  have  you  done,  what 
have  you  done?"  until  the  lonely  man 
was  in  a  condition  of  mind  bordering  on 
insanity. 

Fortunately  for  the  clock,  —  for  Mr.  Tut- 
terson  had  reached  for  his  boot  to  throw 
at  the  dial,  —  as  the  hour-hand  pointed  to 
half  after  six,  and  the  minute-hand  was 
loitering  in  the  neighborhood  of  a  quarter 
to  seven,  there  came  a  loud  knock  at  the 
front  door. 

The  sick  man  started,  and  craning  his 
neck  until  his  Adam's  apple  seemed  like 
the  apex  to  a  pyramid,  he  gazed  into  the 
darkness  of  the  hall-way  as  if  afraid  to 
believe  in  the  reality  of  the  sound.  He 
tried  to  cry  out,  "Who's  there?"  but  the 


OF  OLD    TALES. 


149 


apple    stood    in    his    way  and    he    simply 
gurgled. 

Again   the   knock   came,   and   following 
it  was  a  scarcely  muffled  curse 
against  the  sinfulness  of  people 
who    keep    messenger- 
boys    standing    out 
in  the  rain ;    for    it 


was  raining  hard  without. 

"  Come  in,"  cried  Mr.  Tutterson. 

"  The  door  is  bolted,"   cried  the   mes 
senger,  for  it  was  he. 


150  NEW   WAGGINGS 

The  word  "  bolted "  filled  Mr.  Tutter- 
son  with  blank  dismay.  Not  only  did 
it  account  for  his  dyspepsia,  but  it  was 
a  possible  explanation  of  Beauty's  ab 
sence. 

Forgetting  his  pain,  Mr.  Tutterson 
sprang  to  the  door  and  opened  it.  The 
messenger  thrust  into  his  hand  a  small 
envelope,  the  inscription  so  blurred  that 
Mr.  Tutterson  hardly  recognized  himself 
as  the  person  addressed.  With  a  white 
face  the  merchant  broke  the  seal.  The 
letter  read :  - 

SEPTEMBER  i. 

MY  DEAR  FATHER,  —  I  called  at  the  Beast's 
this  morning,  and  found  him  so  exceedingly 
handsome  and  agreeable  that  I  decided  to  be 
come  Mrs.  Beast.  It  was  a  great  deal  cheaper, 
dear  father,  than  paying  ten  shillings  for  a  paltry 
rose,  and  lawsuits  for  damages  are  quite  as 
damaging  to  the  damagee  as  to  the  damagor. 
When  Mr.  B.  and  I  return  from  our  wedding 


OF  OLD    TALES.  151 

tour,    we   will    give    ourselves    the    pleasure    of 
calling  upon  you. 

Your  affectionate  daughter, 

BEAUTY  TUTTERSON  BEAST. 

P.  S.     There   is   some   cold   chicken   in    the 

kitchen  closet,  dear  father. 

B.  T.  B. 

If  the  messenger  had  chosen  to  look 
back  at  the  door  he  had  just  left,  he 
would  have  seen  an  old  man  lying  prone 
upon  the  porch,  with  a  damp,  crumpled 
note  clasped  tightly  in  his  left  hand. 

Mr.  Tutterson  had  fainted  from  hunger. 


IV. 

THE   SEARCH   FOR  THE   BEAST. 

THERE  is  no  knowing  how  long  Mr. 
Tutterson  would  have  remained  in  a 
swoon,  had  not  a  leak  in  the  piazza  roof 


152 


NEW   WAGG1NGS 


caused  the  water  to  drop  on  his  wan,  white 
face.  The  leak  revived  him. 

Starting   to   his  feet,   he   rushed   madly 
into    the    house,    threw    open    the    pantry 
door,  clutched  the  deli 
cate  viands  which  Beau 
ty's     postscript     told 
him     were    there, 
and    ravenously 
consumed  them. 
His     pangs     of 
hunger     sat 
isfied,       Mr. 
Tutterson 
gained     new 
strength.  He 
resolved     to 
seek  out  his 

daughter  and  rescue  her,  for  he  had  fully 
made  up  his  mind  that  the  letter  had 
been  written  under  restraint.  The  first 


OF  OLD    TALES.  153 

part  of  Beauty's  letter,  it  seemed  to  Mr. 
Tutterson,  was  lacking  in  the  exuberant 
affection  which  the  inedited  letters  of 
daughters  usually  betray,  and  there  were 
no  italics;  and  Mr.  Tutterson  was  suffi 
ciently  familiar  with  the  literary  habits  of 
womankind  to  know  that,  had  the  letter 
been  spontaneous,  so  glaring  an  omission 
would  have  been  impossible.  On  the 
other  hand,  the  sorrowing  parent  thought 
the  postscript  showed  that  the  thought- 
fulness  which  had  ever  characterized 
Beauty's  relations  with  her  father  still 
remained ;  and  the  next  to  the  last  word 
was  italicised.  Mr.  Tutterson's  theory, 
based  upon  a  comparison  of  the  body  of 
the  letter  with  the  postscript,  was  that  the 
first  part  had  been  dictated  to  the  un 
happy  girl  by  her  abductor,  while  the 
postscript  was  influenced  by  the  dictates 
of  her  own  heart ;  and  the  lonely  father 


154  NEW  WAGGINGS 

thought  he  could  read  between  the  lines 
a  mute  appeal  to  him  to  come  to  his 
daughter's  assistance  at  once. 

With  Mr.  Tutterson,  to  resolve  was  to 
do.  It  took  him  but  three  minutes  to 
fortify  himself  for  the  approaching  strug 
gle,  and  armed  with  his  family  umbrella 
he  set  forth.  In  a  very  brief  space  of 
time  he  arrived  before  the  sinister-looking 
mansion.  It  was  a  great  relief  to  Mr. 
Tutterson  to  find  it  still  there,  although 
now  that  he  stood  before  it  and  observed 
by  the  street-lamp's  dim  light  that  the 
window-shades  were  still  pulled  tightly 
down,  his  anxiety  to  penetrate  within  its 
doors  abated  considerably. 

"  To  go  or  not  to  go,  that  is  the  ques 
tion,"  said  Mr.  Tutterson,  whose  familiar 
ity  with  Shakspeare  enabled  him  to  adapt 
the  phrases  of  the  great  dramatist  to  any 
occasion.  "  I  would  n't  hesitate  a  moment 


OF  OLD    TALES.  155 

if  these  pavements  were  a  little  softer,"  he 
added  reminiscently. 

Then  the  possibility  that  his  daughter 
was  suffering  flashed  across  his  mind,  and 
he  hesitated  no  longer.  He  unlatched  the 
gate,  and  with  a  bold  front  marched  up  the 
garden  walk.  This  time  he  scanned  every 
nook  and  corner  of  the  house  as  if  dread 
ing  to  discover  the  malignant  eye  of  the 
Beast.  His  heart  beating  wildly,  he  rang 
the  bell,  whose  sound  had  barely  died 
away  before  the  door  was  opened,  and 
the  Beast,  holding  a  rattan  stick  in  his 
hand,  stood  before  him. 

Mr.  Tutterson  gulped  convulsively.  A 
second  view  of  the  repulsive  creature  con 
fronting  him  convinced  him  that  Beauty  had 
become  Mrs.  Beast  against  her  own  free  will. 

"Marry  that  creature  from  choice? 
Pshaw !  the  idea  is  absurd,"  thought  Mr. 
Tutterson. 


156  NEW   WAGGINGS 

11  Well?  "  said  the  Beast,  impatiently. 

"Not  quite,"  returned  Mr.  Tutterson. 
"  But  somewhat  better,  thank  you,"  he 
added  politely.  It  was  just  as  well,  he 
thought,  to  be  diplomatic. 

"  No  repartee,  if  you  please,"  retorted 
the  Beast,  angrily.  "  I  don't  care  for  tea 
in  any  shape  —  much  less  repartee.  What 
are  you  doing  on  my  stoop?  " 

"  I  seek  my  daughter,"  replied  the  mer 
chant  with  dignity. 

"  Well,  you  're  doing  your  seeking  in 
the  wrong  neighborhood.  If  she  is  where 
she  daughter  be,  she  's  at  home,  and  I  '11 
allow  you  four  seconds  to  start  in  that  di 
rection  yourself.  I  thought  I  gave  you  to 
understand  the  other  day  that  there  was 
no  room  for  your  kind  around  here?" 

"  You  certainly  gave  me  that  among 
other  more  or  less  painful  impressions," 
cried  Mr.  Tutterson;  "  but  a  father's  place 


OF  OLD   TALES.  157 

is  by  his  daughter's  side,  and  I  intend  to 
get  there  if  I  die  for  it.  Restore  her  to 
me  or  take  the  consequences.  I  '11  have 
you  up  for  incendiarism,  or  whatever  the 
crime  is." 

11  Oh,  you  will,  eh?"  retorted  the  Beast, 
getting  red  in  the  face  and  swishing  the 
rattan  through  the  air.  "  Well,  if  it  is 
incendiarism  to  fire  a  man  off  my  prem 
ises,  incendiarism  is  just  the  crime  I  am 
about  to  stain  my  soul  with.  Come  !  " 

And  then  Mr.  Tutterson  repeated  his 
'  gymnastic  feat  of  the  Sunday  afternoon 
previous.  The  door  of  the  sinister-looking 
mansion  slammed  to ;  the  Beast  disap 
peared,  swallowed  up  in  the  blackness  of 
his  retreat,  and  Beauty  still  remained  a 
prisoner. 

"  Heavens  !  "  roared  Mr.  Tutterson,  the 
analogy  being  suggested  by  the  extreme 
prevalence  of  stars  in  his  neighborhood. 


158  NEW  WAGGINGS 

"  To  think  that  Beauty  could  bring  herself 
to  marry  that  wretch,  and  say  that  he  is 
lovely,  amiable,  and  handsome,  even  if  her 
refusal  imperilled  her  life !  However," 
he  added,  as  if  the  thought  comforted 
him,  "  if  she  is  like  her  grandmother  on 
her  mother's  side,  perhaps  she  '11  tame 
him." 

With  these  remarks  Mr.  Tutterson 
dragged  himself  slowly  and  painfully 
home. 

V. 

MR.   TUTTERSON   MAKES   A   DISCOVERY. 

As  he  drew  near  his  own  house  Mr.' 
Tutterson  was  surprised  to  see  a  light 
burning  in  his  parlor.  He  had  left  no 
one  in  the  house,  and  the  unexpected 
illumination  filled  his  soul  with  alarm. 
"Who  can  it  be?"  he  asked  himself  over 


OF  OLD    TALES.  159 

and  over  again.  Burglars  would  surely 
not  rob  his  house,  for  they  had  entered 
it  so  often  before  to  find  nothing,  that  Mr. 
Tutterson  could  have  slept  with  his  doors 
and  windows  open,  and  never  have  been 
troubled  except  by  an  occasional  tramp 
who  wished  for  a  place  to  sleep. 

His  physical  condition  precluded  his 
contending  with  the  invaders  of  his  house 
hold  alone  and  unaided ;  so  before  enter 
ing  his  hall  he  called  to  him  one  of  his 
neighbors,  a  stout,  well-built  fellow,  who, 
Mr.  Tutterson  thought,  could  stand  up 
before  even  the  Beast  without  serious  dam 
age  to  his  personality.  To  his  neighbor 
Mr.  Tutterson  confided  his  fears,  and  the 
two  men  walked  into  the  house  together 
prepared  to  wreak  vengeance  on  the  in 
truders.  As  they  entered,  a  few  chords 
were  struck  on  the  piano  in  the  merchant's 
parlor,  and  much  to  the  old  man's  delight 


l6o  NEW   WAGGINGS 

the   voice    of   his    beloved    daughter   was 
raised  in  a  song  dear  to  his  memory. 

"  She  has  escaped,  thank  Heaven  !  "  cried 
the  merchant,  with  tears  of  joy  running 
down  his  cheeks.  " Beauty,  here  is  papa!" 
he  added,  throwing  open  the  parlor  door. 

"Why,  where  have  you  been?"  asked 
Beauty,  as  if  her  father's  absence  was  the 
one  thing  in  the  world  that  needed  ex 
planation.  "  We  have  been  quite  worried 
about  you." 

At  the  word  we,  Mr.  Tutterson  looked 
faint. 

"  We  ?  "  he  asked.     "  Who  is  we  ?  " 

"Why,  Mr.  Beast  and  I.  We  took  a 
wedding  tour  down  to  the  British  Museum, 
and  then  came  right  home." 

"Is  that  man  in  my  house?"  asked  the 
father,  sternly. 

"  Yes,  father,  and  I  know  you  will  like 
him,  he  is  so  handsome  and  kind." 


OF  OLD    TALES.  l6l 

"  Handsome  and  kind  !  "    shrieked   Mr. 

« 
Tutterson,   rising  and    getting   behind   his 

neighbor.  "  Handsome  may  be  in  the 
use  of  his  hands,  and  kind  of  a  certain 
kind,  but  not  my  kind.  Why,  he  's  homely 
enough  to  stop  a  train !  " 

"You  do  him  wrong,  dear  papa.  Charlie 
would  n't  stop  a  train,  I  know,"  returned 
the  simple  girl.  "Just  wait  till  you  see 
him ;  he 's  upstairs  now,  putting  on  a 
clean  collar." 

"  Oh,  indeed  !  Well,  perhaps  my  turn  has 
come,  we  will  proceed  to  see  my  charm 
ing,  kind,  amiable  son-in-law,  who  has 
hitherto  amused  himself  by  propelling  his 
father-in-law  across  the  street.  Perhaps 
the  collaring  we  give  him  won't  suit  his 
style  of  neck.  If  you  happen  to  hear  a 
dull  thud  in  the  back  yard,  don't  get  ex 
cited  ;  and  to-morrow  you  may  buy  your 
self  a  crepe  veil  and  other  emblems  of 
ii 


1 62  NEW   WAGGINGS 

mourning.  The  funeral  will  be  from  his 
late  residence.  Come  along,  neighbor;  I 
have  work  for  you  above." 

With  these  words  Mr.  Tutterson  seized 
his  neighbor  by  the  arm,  and  pushing  him 
before  him  rushed  up  stairs.  Beauty 
remained  below,  fearing  to  witness  the 
tragedy  which  she  fully  expected  would 
now  ensue.  The  irate  Mr.  Tutterson,  with 
more  noise  and  bravery  than  was  usual 
with  him,  rushed  from  room  to  room  in 
search  of  his  prey,  until  at  last,  standing 
before  a  looking-glass  adjusting  his  tie, 
he  found  him.  A  cry  of  amazement  was 
all  that  Beauty,  waiting  tearfully  in  the 
parlor,  could  hear;  then  she  heard  her 
father's  voice  calling  to  her  to  come  up 
stairs.  Like  a  dutiful  daughter  she  obeyed, 
and  on  entering  the  room  she  perceived 
the  merchant  seated  on  the  bed,  his  mouth 
wide  open,  while  before  him  stood  a  hand- 


OF  OLD   TALES. 


163 


some,    graceful    young   man   who    looked 
rather  sheepish  and  nervous. 

"  Beauty,"  said  Mr.  Tutterson,  "  who  is 
this,  I'd  like  to  know?" 


"  My  husband,  papa  dear,"  replied  Beauty 
with  a  bright  smile. 

"Are  you  Mr.  Beast?"  demanded  Mr. 
Tutterson  of  the  blushing  youth. 

"  Th-th-that's  my  n-n-name,  sir." 


1 64  NEW   WAGGINGS 

"  Do  you  live  in  a  sinister-looking  man 
sion  on  the  Duke  of  Westminster  Lane, 
S.  W.,  London?" 

"A  house  with  the  window-shades  pulled 
tightly  down?"  queried  the  youth. 

"  The  same,"  ejaculated  Mr.  Tutterson. 

"  That's  my  residence,  dear  father-in- 
law,"  was  the  simpering  response. 

"  Well,  what  Dr.  Jekyll  business  have 
we  struck,  anyhow?  This  afternoon  you 
were  a  roaring,  red-eyed,  snub-nosed, 
shock-headed  dwarf,  with  a  temper  like  a 
bull  and  a  fist  like  a  battering-ram ;  and 
to-night  you  are  a  sweet-tempered,  mild- 
mannered,  lady-like  youth.  How  do  you 
account  for  it,  anyhow?" 


OF  OLD    TALES. 


I65 


VI. 


THE  SON-IN-LAW'S  EXPLANATION. 

"  I    FAWNCY    you    must  have   seen    my 
father." 


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MY      OLD      KENTUCKY      HOME.          THE     SWANEE      RIVER. 

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No  one  like  Stephen  Foster  has  ever  had  the  power  to  reach  and  touch 
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Ticlcnor  and  Company.  25 


THE    STORY    OF    AN     ENTHUSIAST.    Told     by    Himself.     A 

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A  MAN  STORY.  A  new  novel  by  E  W.  HOWE,  author  of  "The 
Story  of  a  Country  Town,"  "A  Moonlight  Boy,"  etc.,  $1.50. 

A  HISTORY  OF  THE  SECESSION  WAR.  By  ROSSITER  JOHN- 
sox.  1  vol.  With  Maps  and  Diagrams. 

A  compact  and  careful  account,  of  the  war  and  the  causes  that  led  to  it. 
The  principal  portion  of  this  work  was  published  serially  and  received  with 
the  greatest  approval.  It  has  now  been  revised  and  enlarged,  and  forms  a 
complete  and  compact  as  well  as  accurate  and  entertaining  history  of  the 
Rebellion. 

MUSIC  IN  THE  EIGHTEENTH  CENTURY.  Collected  and  edited 
by  HENRY  M.  BROOKS,  editor  of  the  "  Olden-Time  Series,"  with  an 
introduction  by  EDWARD  S.  MORSE.  I  vol.  12mo.  Illustrated 

w.oo. 

The  editor  of  the  popular  "  Olden-Time  Series"  has  here  collected  in  a 
larger  volume  many  rare  and  curious  anecdotes,  ana,  etc.,  about  music  and 
musicians,  of  interest  to  all,  and  especially  to  music  lovers. 

LOVE  AND  THEOLOGY.  A  Novel,  by  CELIA  PARKER  WOOLLEY. 
1  vol.  12mo,  §1.50. 

A  novel  and  brilliant  story  by  a  new  and  talented  writer.  It  is  not  only 
entertaining  as  a  story,  but  engrosses  interest  from  the  highest  ethical  stand 
point.  ...  It  is  most  decidedly  a  book  to  own.  and  not  merely  to  read 
for  amusement  only  and  then  throw  aside." 

THE  BHACAVAD-CITA;  OR,  THE  LORD'S  LAY.  With  Com 
mentary  and  notes,  as  well  as  references  to  the  Christian  Scriptures, 
Translated  from  the  Sanskrit  for  the  benefit  of  those  in  search  of 
spiritual  light,  by  MOHIM  M.  CHATTERJI,  M.  A.  1  vol.  Svo.  Gilt 
top,  $2.00. 


26  A  List  of  JBooh  Published  by 

NEW    AND    CHEAPER    EDITIONS 

OF 

POPULAR,  STANDARD,  AND  ILLUSTRATED  BOOKS. 

POETS  AND  ETCHERS.  A  volume  of  full-page  etchings,  by  JAMES 
I).  SMILLIE,  SAMUEL  COLMAX.  A.  F.  BELLOWS,  H.  FARKEU.  and 
K.  SWAIN  GlFFOBO,  illustrating  poems  by  Longfellow,  Whittier, 
Bryant,  Aldrieh,  etc.  4to  A  new  edition  in  new  binding.  Full  gilt, 
§5.00. 


THE  TICKNOR  SERIES  OF  OCTAVO  POETS. 

LIBRARY   EDITION. 
"LUCILE,"    by   OWEN    MEREDITH. 

"THE    LADY    OF    THE    LAKE,"   by  SIR   WALTER   SCOTT. 
"THE    LAY    OF    THE    LAST    MINSTREL,"    by    SIR   WALTER 

SCOTT. 

"MARMION,"     by    SIR    WALTER    SCOTT. 
"THE    PRINCESS,"    by   ALFRED    LORD    TENNYSON. 
"CHILDE    HAROLD,"    by    LORD    BYRON. 

Six  volumes,  elegantly  and  uniformly  bound,  with  all  the  original 
illustrations,  bevelled  hoards  and  foil  gilt  in  cloth.  Each,  $3.50;  in 
tree-calf  or  flexible  calf,  extra,  §7  50. 

These  are  the  most  famous  and  popular  editions  in  existence  of  those 
great  poems.  In  their  original  shape,  they  have  had  enormous  sales,  and  in 
their  cheaper  form,  with  all  their  original  illustrations,  complete  and 
unwcrn,  they  will  have  renewed  popularity. 

Also  uniform  ivith  the  above,  in  style  and  price,  tJie  beautifully  illustrated 
TUSCAN    CITIES.     By  W.  D.  HOWELLS. 
RED-LETTER    DAYS   ABROAD.     By  JoHX  L.  STODDARD. 


SONNETS  FROM  THE  PORTUGUESE.  By  ELIZABETH  BAR 
RETT  BROWKIKO.  Illustrated  by  Lndvig  Sandou  Jpsen.  1  vol. 
Oblong  quarto,  beautifully  bound,  full  gilt,  S8.00. 

This  magnificent  work  was  a  labor  of  love  for  years  with  the  artist,  who 

ha*  made  a  series  of  designs,  the  equals  of  which  as  a  mere  treasury  of 

decoration  and  invention,  apart  from  their  significance  in  illustrating  the 

immortal  verse  of  Mrs.  Browning,  have  never  been  issued  in  America. 

THE     CORRESPONDENCE      OF     THOMAS     CARLYLE      AND 

RALPH    WALDO    EMERSON. 
NATHANIEL    HAWTHORNE   AND    HIS   WIFE. 

New  and  cheajier  editions,  each  in  two  volumes.     12mo.     With 
portraits  and  other  illustrations.     Per  set,  S3.00. 

JAPANESE   HOMES.    By  PROF.  EDWARD  S.  MORSE. 

CHOSON  :      THE     LAND     OF    THE      MORNING     CALM.       B 

PERCIVAL  LOWELL. 
Each  in  1  vol.    Large  8vo.    Illustrated.    Per  vol.,  *3.00. 


Ticknor  and   Company.  27 


FOOLS    OF    NATURE.     A  Novel.     1  vol.     12mo,  $1.50. 

A  strong  and  original  work.  It  is  anti-spiritualistic  in  fact,  while  yet 
showing  how  some  trusting  natures  honestly  follow  such  beliefs.  There  are 
many  finely  drawn  scenes  and  figures  in  the  book,  a  great  deal  of  careful 
analysis  of  character  and  motive,  much  both  of  pathos  and  passion,  the 
whole  life-like  and  well  drawn. 

A  SEA  CHANCE;  OR,  LOVE'S  STOWAWAY.  A  comic  opera. 
By  WILLIAM  D.  HOWELLS.  1  vol.  IGmo.  Little-Classic  size,  $1.00. 

SOBRIQUETS  AND  NICKNAMES.  By  ALBERT  R.  FREY.  1vol. 
Crown  8vo,  half  morocco,  gilt  top,  library  style,  $3.50. 

Some  years  ago,  the  author,  while  engaged  upon  a  dictionary  of  Pseudo 
nyms  (since  incorporated  in  Mr.  Cushing's  work),  found  so  many  nicknames, 
etc.,  that  he  began  to  collect  them.  The  result  is  the  present  volume,  con 
taining  over  Jii'e  thousand  snbjicfs,  and  is  invaluable  to  all  libraries, 
editors,  students,  and  to  all  who  find  such  books  as  Wheeler's,  Brewer's, 
or  Cushing's  useful  in  their  reading,  study,  or  work. 

A  FLOCK  OF  CIRLS.  A  book  for  girls.  By  NORA  PERRY,  author  of 
"After  the  Ball,"  etc.  1vol.  12mo,  $1.50. 

Miss  Perry  is  one  of  the  most  popular  writers  for  girls,  and  her  stories 
for  them  are  eagerly  sought  by  all  the  best  editors.  This  volume  contains 
her  best  and  latest  stories,  and  is  sure  of  a  warm  reception. 

JUAN  AND  JUANITA.  By  FRANCES  COURTENAY  BAYLOR,  author 
of  ''  On  Both  Sides,"  etc.  1vol.  Square  4to.  AVith  many  illustra 
tions,  by  HENRY  SANDHAM,  §1.50. 

Miss  Baylor's  charming  and  "  ower  true''  tale  has  formed  the  chief 
attraction  of  the  "  St.  Nicholas  "  for  a  year,  and  in  complete  form,  and 
with  considerable  additions,  will  be  heartily  welcomed,  most  of  all  by  those 
who  have  already  learned  to  love  its  little  hero  and  heroine,  and  eagerly 
look  for  the  full  story  of  their  adventures. 

UNDER  PINE' AND  PALM.  Poems  by  MRS.  FRANCES  L.  MACE, 
author  of  "Legends,  Lyrics  and  Sonnets,"  "Isratil,"  "Only 
Waiting,"  etc.  1  vol.  J2mo,  §1.75. 

"  Only  Waiting"  was  written  by  Mrs.  Mace  at  the  age  of  about  sixteen, 
and  attracted  wide  attention.  Her  more  recent  poems  have  been  published 
in  the  leading  magazines,  and  are  acknowledged  to  be  among  the  finest  gems 
of  American  poetry.  The  beauty  of  her  verse  is  unquestioned,  and  it  is 
safe  to  predict  that  "  Under  Pine  and  Palm  "  will  be  widely  read. 

NEW  WACCINCS  OF  OLD  TALES.  By  Two  Wags.  1vol.  Illus 
trated. 

A  volume  of  burlesque  novelettes,  etc.,  by  a  combination  of  wits,  sure 
to  be  found  amusing  and  popular. 

AGATHA  PACE.  A  new  novel  by  ISAAC  HEXDKRSON,  author  of 
"  The  Prelate."  1  vol.  12mo,  $150. 

A  new  story  by  the  author  of  "  The  Prelate"  is  sure  to  be  promptly  and 
permanently  popular. 

A  NEW  VOLUME  OF  ESSAYS.  From  the  papers  of  EDWIN  PERCY 
WHIPPLE,  author  of  "  Recollections  of  Eminent  Men,"  "  Americau 
Literature,"  etc.  1vol.  12mo.  Gilt  top,  §1.50. 

STEADFAST.  A  Novel,  by  ROSE  TERRY  CooKE,  author  of  "Some 
body's  Neighbors,"  etc.  12mo,  §1.50. 


28  A  List  of  Books  Published  by 


STORIES  AND  SKETCHES.  By  JOHN*  BOYLE  O'RKIM.V,  editor 
of  the  Pilnt,  nuthor  of  "  Moondyne,"  "  Songs,  Legends,  Ballad?,'' 
etc.  1vol.  liiino,  $!.50. 

The  great  popularity  of  the  author,  and  the  intrinsic  merit  ami  interest 
of  his  writiiijrs,  will  insure  a  warm  reception  to  this  collection  of  his  latest 
and  best  works. 

A  NOVEL.  By  EDWARD  BKLLAMY,  author  of  "  Miss  Ludington's  Sis 
ter."  1  vol.  12mo,  SI. 50. 

A  NOVEL.  By  Miss  L.  G.  NOBLE,  author  of  "A  Itererend  Idol." 
1vol.  1'Jnio,  §1.50. 

SAFE  BUILDING.  By  Louis  DK  CoPPET  BERG.  1vol.  Square  8vo, 
S.-».oo. 

These  papers  are  the  work  of  a  practising  architect,  and  not  that  of  n 
mere  book  maker  or  theorist.  Mr.  Berg,  mining  to  make  his  work  of 
the  greatest  value  to  the  largest  number,  has  confined  himself  in  his 
mathematical  demonstrations  to  the  use  of  arithmetic,  algebra,  and  plane 
geometry.  In  short,  these  papers  are  in  the  highest  sense  practical  and 
valuable. 

A  NEW  AND  ENLARGED  CONCORDANCE  TO  THE  HOLY 
SCRIPTURES.  By  REV.  J.  B.  R.  WALKER. 

This  monumental  work  of  patient  industry  and  iron  diligence  is  in 
dispensable  to  all  students  of  the  Bible,  to  which  it  is  the  key  and  intro 
duction.  Many  errors  and  omissions  in  the  plans  of  the  older  Concordances 
have  been  avoided  in  thi*  one :  which  also  bears  reference  to  the  Revised 
Bible,  as  well  as  to  the  King  James  version. 

THE  OLDEN-TIME  SERIES.  Edited  by  TfKXRY  M.  BROOKR,  with 
many  illustrations  and  fac-similes.  Six  Volumes  in  two,  S2  50. 

A  new,  compact  edition  of  these  popular  collections  of  anecdote  and 
incident. 


THE    LATEST    PUBLICATIONS. 

CULTURE'S  GARLAND:  Being  Memoranda  of  the  Gradual  Rise  of 
Literature.  Art,  Music,  and  Society  in  Chicago  and  other  Western 
Ganglia.  By  EUGEXE  FIELD.  Paper,  50  cents;  cloth,  §1.00. 

PENELOPE'S  SUITORS.  By  EDWIN  LASSETTEU  BYXXER.  1  vol. 
32mo.  Quaintly  bound  in  antique  paper  boards,  with  strings.  50  eta. 
This  captivating  story  of  the  old  Colony  days  in  Massachusetts  was  origi 
nally  published  serially,  when  it  aroused  wide  attention  and  great  admira 
tion.  In  deference  to  a  public  demand,  it  is  now  brought  out  in  a  quaint 
and  dainty  little  volume,  making  one  of  the  prettiest,  and  most  bijnu-like 
books  of  the  year.  The  Boston  "Daily  Advertiser"  pronounces  it :  "A 
•ubtly-clever,  original,  and  remarkably  well-told  story.  The  way  in  which 
the  Governor  steals  the  heart  of  '  the  young  gentlewoman,'  just  nt  a  time 
•when  she  is  about  to  become  engaged  to  a  young  friend  of  his,  is  sketched 
with  exquisite,  grace  and  charm." 


Ticknor  and   Company.  29 

PROSE  PASTORALS.  By  HERBERT  M.  SYLVESTER.  1  vol.  12mo. 
Gilt  top.  $1.50. 

A  series  of  very  charming  chapters  on  Nature  and  the  manifold  attrac 
tions  of  rural  life,  and  rambling  in  the  forests  and  meadows.  No  better 
companion  can  be  found  for  a  summer  day  in'the  country.  It  is  an  entirely 
new  work,  the  result  and  crystallization  of  years  of  communion  with 
Nature. 

HOME  SANITATION.  A  Manual  for  Housekeepers.  By  the  Sanitary 
Science  Club  of  the  Association  of  Collegiate  Alurana3.  Cloth.  50 
cents. 

The  object  of  this  manual  is  to  arouse  the  interest  of  housekeepers  in  the 
sanitary  conditions  of  their  homes,  and  to  indicate  the  points  requiring 
investigation,  the  methods  of  examination,  and  the  practical  remedies. 
The  subjects  treated  are  tbe  situation  of  the  house,  care  of  the  cellar, 
plumbing  and  drainage,  ventilation,  heating,  lighting,  furnishing,  clothing, 
food  and  drink.  Each  topic  is  introduced  by  an  explanatory  statement, 
which  is  followed  by  a  series  of  questions  so  framed  that  an  affirmative 
answer  implies  a  satisfactory  arrangement ;  and  they  also  suggest  a  remedy 
if  the  answer  is  negative. 

FINAL  MEMORIALS  OF  HENRY  WADSWORTH  LONG 
FELLOW.  By  SAMUEL  LONGFELLOW,  author  of  '-Life  of  Henry 
Wadsworth  Longfellow,"  etc.  1vol.  8vo.  Uniform  with  the  "  Life." 
With  two  new  steel  plates,  and  other  illustrations.  Cloth,  $3.00 ;  half 
calf,  with  marbled  edges,  $5.50 ;  half  morocco,  with  gilt  top  and  rough 
edges,  §5.50. 

The  volume  contains  the  journals  and  letters  of  the  last  twelve  years  of 
the  poet's  life,  which  were  omitted  from  the  Biography  through  fear  of  mak 
ing  it  unduly  large,  their  places  being  there  supplied  by  a  summary  narra 
tive.  Many  letters  are  also  given  of  the  earlier  periods,  from  Mr  Longfellow 
and  his  correspondents,  such  as  Mr.  T.  G.  Appleton,  Mr.  J.  L.  Motley,  Dean 
Stanley,  etc.  There  is  a  chapter  of  "  table  talk  "  and  some  pieces  of  un 
published  verse  ;  the  tributes  of  Prof.  C.  0.  Everett,  Dr.  0.  W.  Holmes, 
and  Prof.  C.  E.  Ncrton  are  given,  and  extracts  from  the  reminiscences  of 
Mr.  William  Winter  and  others  An  Appendix  contains  genealogical  and 
bibliographical  matter.  The  work  contains  impressions  of  two  engraved 
portraits  and  a  vignette,  prepared  expressly  for  this  edition.  There  are 
also  full-page  wood-engravings  of  several"  Longfellow  "  houses,  and  curious 
fac-sirniles  of  drawings  and  sketches,  and  pencil  portraits  of  Mr.  Longfellow 
hitherto  unknown. 

THE  DEVIL'S  HAT.    By  MELVILLE  PHILIPS     1vol.     12mo.  .  $1.00. 

A  novel  of  intense  and  absorbing  interest,  whose  scenes  are  laid  in  the 
oil  regions  of  Pennsylvania, — a  sufficiently  novel  and  attractive  field  for 
romance.  As  a  vigorous  critic  has  written,  "  Much  of  the  real  worth  of  the 
book  lies  in  the  accurate  picture  of  life  in  the  oil  regions.  This  part  of  the 
work  is  very  finely  done.  The  various  incidents  of  such  a  life  are  all  real 
istically  written,  while  the  scenery  of  the  tale  is  sketched  with  an  artistic 
hand." 

LIGHTS  AND  SHADOWS  OF  A  LIFE.  By  MADELEINE  ViN'JOK 
DAHLGRKN  (Mrs.  Admiral  Dahlgren),  author  of  "A  Washington 
Winter,"  "South-Sea  Sketches,"  "South-Mountain  Magic,"  "  Me- 
inoirs  of  Admiral  Dahlgren,"  etc.  1  vol.  12mo.  $1.50. 

The  novel,  a  Southern  tale,  is  written  in  the  same  powerful  and  fascinat 
ing  manner  that  has  won  for  Mrs.  Dahlgren's  published  works  such  remark 
able  popularity  and  success,  and  is  pronounced  the  best  work  yet  written  by 
this  distinguished  lady.  The  picture  of  Southern  home  life,  the  unveiling 
of  the  secrets  of  a  heart,  the  coming  and  going  of  the  lights  and  shadows 
in  the  heroine's  life,  are  portrayed  in  Mrs.Dahlgren's  most  perfect  manner, 
and  form  but  small  parts  of  one  of  the  most  successful  and  delightful  novels 
of  the  season. 


30  A  List  of  Books  Published  by 


THE  SUNNY  SIDE  OF  SHADOW  -Reveries  of  a  Convalescent. 
By  Mrs.  S.  G.  W.  BENJAMIN.  1  vol.  ICmo.  $1.00. 

LETTERS  OF  HORATIO  CREENOUCH  to  his  Brother,  Henry 
Greenough.  With  Biographical  sketches,  and  some  Contemporary 
Correspondence.  Edited  by  FRAJ»CES  BOOTT  GREENOUGH.  1  vol. 
12iiu>.  With  Portrait.  91.25. 

"  Very  welcome  to  readers  of  liteiary  tastes  and  artistic  sympathies. 
They  give  one  a  portrait  of  a  sensitive  nature,  keenly  alive  to  whatever  was 
fine  and  true.  The  letters  throw  tide-lights  on  the  growth  of  art  and  artis 
tic  tastes  in  America,  and  have  a  distinct  value  on  that  account.  There 
are  letters  from  Willis,  Dana,  the  Ureeuoughs,  et  als.,  with  charming  pic 
tures  of  Boston  fifty  years  ago." 

NIGHTS  WITH  UNCLE  REMUS:  Myths  and  Legends  of  the  Old 
Plantation.  By  JOEL  CHAXDLKB  HARRIS,  Author  of  '•  Uncle  Ke- 
inus:  his  Songs  and  Sayings,"  "At  Tuague  Poteet's,"  etc.  1  vol. 
16mo.  Illustrated.  Paiir  covers.  50  cents. 

This  is  the  choicest  of  Harris's  inimitable  books  of  Southern  life,  legends 
and  dialect,  which  have  met  with  such  extraordinarily  large  sales.  In  an 
swer  to  the  great  popular  demand,  this  new  edition  in  paper  covers  has  been 
brought  out. 

THE  NICRITIANS.  Division  One  of  the  Social  History  of  the  Races  of 
Mankind.  By  A.  FEATHERMAN.  1vol.  8vo.  $6.00. 

THE  MELANESIANS.  Division  Two  of  the  Social  History  of  the  Races 
of  Mankind.  By  A.  FKATHERMAX.  1  voL  8vo.  $6.00. 

REFERENCE    BOOKS. 

FAMILIAR   SHORT  SAYINGS  OF  GREAT   MEN.    By  S.  ARTHITR 

BENT,  A.M.     Filth  edition.    12uio.     Vellum,  cloth.    $200. 

Indispensable  to  students,  writers,  and  libraries.  It  gives  a  collection  of 
short,  sententious  sayings  of  all  times,  such  as  are  constantly  referred  to. 

THE  COURSE  OF  EMPIRE.  Being  Outlines  of  the  Chief  Political 
Changes  in  the  History  of  the  World.  Arranged  by  Centuries,  by 
C.  G.  WHEELER.  With  25  map*.  1  vol.  121110.  $2.00. 

FAMILIAR  ALLUSIONS.  A  Handbook  of  Miscellaneous  Information, 
including  the  names  of  Celebrated  Statues,  Paintings,  Palaces, 
Country  Seats,  Ruins,  Churches,  Ships,  Streets,  Clubs,  Natural  Curi 
osities,  and  the  like.  By  WILLIAM  A.  WHEELEU  and  CHARLES  G. 
WHEELER.  1  vol.  12mo.  §2.00. 

EVENTS  AND  EPOCHS  IN  RELIGIOUS  HISTORY.  By  -I  AMI  s 
FREEMAN  CLARKE,  D.D.  Illustrated.  12mo.  £2.(K>. 

EDGE-TOOLS  OF  SPEECH.  By  MATURIX  M.  BALLOU.  $3.50.  An 
encyclopedia  of  quotations,  the  brightest  sayings  of  the  vise  and 
famous.  Invaluable  for  debating  societies,  writers,  and  public 
shakers.  A  treasure  for  libraries. 

An  almost  inexhaustible  mine  of  the  choicest  thoughts  of  the  best  writers 
of  all  ages  and  countries,  from  Confucius  down  to  Gartield  and  Gladstone, — 
a pot-pourri  of  all  the  spiciest  ingredients  of  literature.  There  is  a  vacancy 
on  every  student's  desk  and  in  every  library  which  it  alone  can  till,  and 
soon  will  fill.  The  book  deserves  its  popularity. —  The  A'orthiccsttrn. 


TicJcnor  and  Company.  31 


THE 

MEMORIAL  HISTORY  OF  BOSTON, 

In  Four  Volumes.     Quarto. 

With  more  than  500  Illustrations  by  famous  artists  and  engravers,  all 
made  for  this  work. 

Edited  by  JUSTIN  WINSOR,  LIBRARIAN  OF  HARVARD  UNIVERSITY. 

Among  the  contributors  are  :  — 

Gov.  JOHN  D.  LONG,  Dr.  0.  W.  HOLMES, 

Hon.  CHARLES  FRANCIS  ADAMS,  JOHN  G.  WHITTIER, 

Rev.  PHILLIPS  BROOKS,  D.D. ,  Rev.  J.  F.  CLARKE,  D.D., 

Rev.  E.  E.  HALE,  D.D.,  Rev.  A.  P.  PEABODY,  D.D., 

Hon.  ROBERT  C.  WINTHKOP,  Col.  T.  \V~.  HIGGINSON, 

Hon.  J.  HAMMOND  TRUMBULL,  Professor  ASA  GRAY, 

Admiral  G.  H.  PREBLE,  Gen.  F.  W.  PALFREY, 
HENRY  CABOT  LODGE. 


VOLUME  I.  treats  of  the  Geology,  Fauna,  and  Flora ;  the  Voyages  and  Maps  of 
the  Northmen,  Italians,  Captain  John  Smith,  and  the  Plymouth  Settlers  ; 
the  Massachusetts  Company,  Puritanism,  and  the  Aborigines  ;  the  Lit 
erature,  Life,  and  Chief  Families  of  the  Colonial  Period. 

VOL.  II.  treats  of  the  Royal  Governors  ;  French  and  Indian  Wars  ;  Witches 
and  Pirates;  The  Religion,  Literature,  Customs,  and  Chief  Families  of  the 
Provincial  Period. 

VOL.  III.  treats  of  the  Revolutionary  Period  and  the  Conflict  around  Boston  ; 
and  the  Statesmen,  Sailors,  and  Soldiers,  the  Topography,  Literature,  and 
Life  of  Boston  during  that  time  ;  and  also  of  the  Last  Hundred  Years' 
History,  the  War  of  1812,  Abolitionism,  and  the  Press. 

VOL.  TV.  treats  of  the  Social  Life,  Topography,  and  Landmarks,  Industries 
Commerce,  Railroads,  and  Financial  History  of  this  Century  in  Boston ; 
with  Monographic  Chapters  on  Boston's  Libraries,  Women,  Science,  Art, 
Music,  Philosophy,  Architecture,  Charities,  etc. 

*#*  Sold  by  subscription  only.     Send  for  a  Prospectus  to  the 
Publishers, 

TICKNOB    AND     COMPANY,    Boston. 


32         A  List  of  Books  Published  by  Ticknor  $  Co. 


THE    TICKNOR     EDITIONS    OF    STANDARD 
ENGLISH     POEMS. 

ILLUSTRATED   OCTAVO  EDITIONS. 
These  choicest  editions  of  the  great  modern  poems  were  drawn  and  en 
graved  under  the  care  of  A.  V.  S.  AXTHOXY.    Each  in  one  vol.,  8vo, 
elegantly  bound,  with  full  gilt  edges,  in  a  neat  box.     Each  poem, 

In  clotli $15.00 

In  antique  morocco,  padded  calf,  or  tree-calf 10.00 

In  crushed  levant,  extra,  with  silk  linings 25.00 

Scott's  The   Lay  of  the   Last   Minstrel. 
Tennyson's  The   Princess.  Meredith's    Lucile. 

Scott's  The  Lady  of  the   Lake.  Scott's   Marmion. 

Byron's  Childe   Harold. 

LIBRARY  EDITIONS. 
Lucile.                                                     Marmion. 
The  Lady  of  the  Lake.                  Childe  Harold. 
The  Princess.                                      The  Lay  of  the  Last  Minstrel. 
Each  in  one  volume,  8vo,  elegantly  and  uniformly  bound,  with  all  the  origi 
nal  illustrations,  bevelled  boards,  full  gilt  edges.     In  cloth  .     .     §3.50 
In  tree-calf,  or  flexible  calf,  extra 7.60 

TREMONT  EDITIONS. 
Lucile.  Marmion. 

The   Lady  of  the   Lake.  Childe   Harold. 

The   Princess.  The  Lay  of  the  Last  Minstrel. 

Enoch  Arden,  and  Other  Poems. 
Each  in  one  volume,  IGmo,  beautifully  illustrated.   With  red  lines,  bevelled 

boards,  and  gilt  edges.    In  cloth $2.50 

In  half-calf 4  00 

In  antique  morocco,  flexible  calf,  seal  or  tree-calf    .    .    .    .**{    .    .      5.00 

POCKET    EDITIONS. 
Lucile.  Marmion. 

The  Lady  of  the  Lake.  Childe   Harold. 

The   Princess.  The  Lay  of  the  Last  Minstrel. 

Enoch  Arden,  and  Other  Poems. 
Each  in  one  volume,  Little-Classic  size.     Handsomely  and  appropriately 

bound,  with  many  line  illustrations     In  cloth fl.OO 

In  halt-calf 2.25 

In  antique  morocco,  flexible  calf,  or  peal 3.00 

In  tree-calf,  or  padded  calf 3.50 

THE   STUDENTS'   EDITIONS. 

The  Lay  of  the  Last   Minstrel.  Marmion. 

Young  People's  Tennyson.  The   Princess. 

Select  Poems  of  Tennyson.  Childe  Harold. 

Enoch  Arden,  and  Other  Poems.  The  Lady  of  the  Lake. 

Each  in  one  volume.  12mo.  Edited,  with  introduction  and  copious  noten, 
by  W.  J.  KOLFE.  Beautifully  illustrated.  Ked  edges.  Each 
\olume $.75 


UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA  LIBRARY 


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